La Fine Ed La Inizio
by JamiW
Summary: Seventh in the "Free" series...set post-Here and There  and also post-The Touch of Rain, if you're reading the smutty fill-in one-shots . Casefile with lots of B/A and some M/C
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Timeline - set after "The Touch of Rain". If you missed that one, it's post-"Here and There", after the honeymoon.**

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**Bobby POV**

I woke up to the sound of the rain.

That was my first realization.

My second was that I was alone in the bed, and that was completely unacceptable.

I rolled out of bed and walked quietly through our new home.

When we'd arrived back in New York from St. Thomas on Thursday, Alex had a message waiting from her dad.

Actually, we had quite a few messages waiting for both of us because neither of us had taken our cell phones with us. Logan knew the name of our hotel in St. Thomas so if there had been an emergency, he could've found us. But anything short of a major crisis, we didn't want to be bothered.

Alex's dad had called and left an interesting message. He said that while we were gone, he'd found us the perfect place to live.

I had my doubts, but we agreed to meet him to do a walk-through.

Once we saw the place I decided that maybe he was trying to make things right with me and with Alex. He'd obviously put a lot of thought into the search.

The current owners had already moved out, so we were able to arrange to rent the place while we waited for the bank to process the mortgage. That way we could go ahead and move in. It was the ideal situation.

Of course, we had no furniture at the moment. Well, we did have a bed, but that was about it. And most of our stuff was still in boxes. But that was okay.

The place was small, but it was always only going to be just the two of us, so it was plenty big enough. It was fairly modern, and only about ten blocks from Mike and Carolyn, but the selling point had really been the balcony. Although it was too cold for it now, I had no doubt that we would be spending a lot of time on it in the warmer months.

The price had been a little higher than I'd been hoping for but considering the location, it was worth the money. Alex had received a generous check from the insurance company after her place was burned down by that nut job Masarro, so we were able to make a sizeable down-payment.

And since I'd be earning retirement wages in addition to the consulting fees that we'd both be pulling in, I thought we'd be okay.

I never dreamed that I would own a condo in Brooklyn, but in another month it would officially be ours.

After wandering down the hall, I found Alex exactly where I'd expected. She stood in front of the large living room window watching the rain. She had a blanket wrapped around her otherwise bare body.

"It's not fair that it would do this today," she commented, sensing my presence even though her eyes never left the window.

"Rain?"

Personally, I loved the rain now. I would never look at it the same way again. Every time a drop fell from the sky, I would be picturing Alex out on that patio in St. Thomas.

"Yeah," she answered wistfully. "On our first day back."

Ah. Work.

"We only have two more weeks," I reminded her. I went up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. "Or we could call in sick."

"How is it," she began as she leaned back into me, "that the most work-driven man I have ever known has managed to make me care so little about work?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" I asked as I shifted against her in an effort to get her to loosen her grip on the blanket.

And yeah, we were in front of the window, but the room was dark and it was dark outside…and I just didn't care.

"I'm serious," she laughed. "Think back to a year ago."

"I don't want to. A year ago I was still only dreaming about you," I whispered into her ear.

"I mean think back to how you felt about work," she clarified, although at the same time, she tilted her head so that I could have better access to her neck. "It was everything to you. To me, too. And now we can't wait to get out of there."

"It was all I had, and it was my only connection to you," I replied simply. She sighed and closed her eyes as I continued kissing along her throat.

She let the blanket fall to the floor.

She kept her back to me and I was mesmerized by the visual in front of me. I could see her reflection in the window coupled with the water droplets streaming down the glass.

"How much time do we have?" she asked me in a low tone.

"Enough," I assured her as I eased her against the glass. She inhaled sharply when the cold pane touched her skin, but she didn't step back.

I ran my hands down her back, alternating light and strong pressure in just the right places. She sighed heavily and turned her face so that her cheek was flush against the glass as well.

I idly wished that I had the camera so that I could capture the lovely tableau but it wasn't worth stepping away from her to get it. I didn't really need it anyway.

The image was burned into my mind.

"I think we call in sick," I whispered as I continued to work my hands over her, expertly building up her arousal. I was confident in this area if nowhere else. I knew how to please her.

"Bobby," she forced out, her breath coming faster.

The way she said my name…I could remember too many times before we'd gotten together, how easy it was for me to drift off into a fantasy just from the sound of my name on her lips.

"What do you think?" I continued casually simply because I knew she liked me to talk to her. "Take another trip? Maybe this time somewhere cold? We'd have to snuggle together by the fire to keep each other warm…"

She didn't respond, but I didn't expect her to.

Her face was flushed, her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted. She kept whispering my name over and over and if I wasn't careful, this whole thing was going to be over before it even began.

Her voice began to get louder and I knew she was oh so close but I wasn't ready to let her go yet. So I stopped.

She groaned her disapproval, but then I pulled her back from the window and down onto the floor with me.

"That was just wrong," she told me, although she had a smile on her face.

I returned her smile as I rolled her underneath me and then I pushed inside of her as deep as I could.

We were both still for a moment, relishing the feeling of being together again.

"I won't leave you hanging," I whispered. "Work with me here. We'll get there together."

"Always," she agreed as she slid her hands down my back. Her fingertips were cold from where they had rested against the window and they conversely felt like trails of fire on my sensitive skin.

I had planned to make it slow. Really, I did.

I wanted to bring her to the edge again and again. I wanted to make her scream my name. I wanted it to last so long that we both collapsed from physical exhaustion.

But then she did this thing…I had to find out what the woman was reading in her down time. It had to be a book about sexual secrets. I didn't want to think that she just knew these things from experience.

But nonetheless, she did this…thing, and I was a goner. Slow and steady was out the window, kicked in the ass by fast and frantic.

And I was the one screaming her name rather than the other way around.

Not that I'm complaining. All's fair in sex and love.

"Where the hell did you learn that?" I asked her when I was finally able to speak again.

Several long minutes had passed, and I was mildly afraid that I was crushing her since my limbs had turned to jell-o, but I couldn't gather up the strength to move.

And I know Alex. If she wanted me off of her, I'd be off.

"You liked that?"

"I did. My heart…I'm not so sure. We may need to add a defibrillator to the first aid kit."

"Are you okay?" she asked quickly.

"I'm fine," I laughed. "I'm better than fine. I'm not sure if I'll be able to move anytime soon…"

I was cut off by the ringing phone.

"If you think you can roll in one direction or the other, I'll get the phone," she teased.

I moved, and she hopped up to answer the cell. It was mine, but it wasn't like we cared anymore.

"Goren," she answered. I looked up at her from my spot on the floor and watched as she took the call.

From the sound of her end of the conversation, it was clearly Ross. It had to be a body if he was calling us now when we were due into work in another couple of hours.

"Thank you, Captain. We'll meet you there."

She hung up and looked down at me. I still hadn't gotten up.

"We've got a body."

"Yeah?"

"A jumper. He went out of his fortieth-floor office window about two hours ago."

"Who is it?" I asked as I sat up. It had to be someone big for us to get the call.

"Carlos Medina."

The name rang a bell but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Some kind of financial wizard," she continued. "Ross said that the next of kin pulled some strings. I guess our reputation precedes us."

"I always knew it did, but I figured it was in a bad way."

"Speak for yourself," she joked as she held out a hand to help me up. "The captain's on-scene now. I told him we'd be there in an hour."

"I'm moving."

I let her help me to my feet even though I would've rather just pulled her down to me instead.

We stood there together in the empty living room, both of us reluctant to start the day. Especially now that we had a case, once we left the sanctity of this moment, it would be non-stop.

"I'm sorry we had to cut our time short," she told me.

"Me, too. You know, every time I think things can't get better, they do," I told her as I gently tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

"Well, eventually I'm going to run out of tricks to surprise you with."

"Maybe. But maybe I have a trick or two of my own."

"I bet you do," she said with a smile. And then she gave me a little nod. "You ready?"

"Let's do this," I agreed. And we went down the hall to get ready for the day.

See, that was the great thing.

As much as we loved our alone time together, when we did have to go to work, we were still together. And I loved the professional side of Alex, too.

I loved her quick intelligence and her deductive abilities. Declan had commented to me once that I was always three steps ahead of everyone else. Maybe that was true of everyone but Alex. She and I were always perfectly in stride.

So even though our down time was over for now, things were still great, just in a different way. How many people get to do what they love, with the one they love? I'd wager to guess not too damn many.

An hour later, we arrived at the scene on Thirty-Second Street. The block was cordoned off and uniforms were scattered about. The rain had stopped not too long ago, and the sky was just beginning to lighten.

"Detectives," Ross greeted us with a curt nod.

I hadn't been sure how he would respond to us after our latest round of bonding. The whole hostage thing and the car bomb…

But apparently it was going to be business as usual. And that was fine. He'd been nice enough to give us the time off. I didn't expect him to suddenly turn into a friend.

"So the victim," Alex began. "You said Carlos Medina?"

"That's right."

"What's his story?"

"Forty-four year old banker. He has a brother in the fire department. He's the one who insisted on Major Case. He also has an ex-wife in Murdock Woods. She hasn't been called yet. I was hoping you two could make the notification."

"That's fine. But why are we here at all? You said he's a jumper, right?"

"It looked that way at first."

"And now?"

"Now it looks like he had help."

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Alex POV**

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After talking with Ross, I went to where Rodgers was crouched over the body.

"Detective," she greeted cheerfully. "Isn't this a nice welcome home from your honeymoon?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking," I replied as I squatted down next to her. "What's the story here?"

"Where do you want me to start? This guy's a mess."

"So, how do we know he was pushed?"

"Well, for starters, he went through the glass. Most jumpers tend to open the window first."

She held up each of his hands in succession to show me glass embedded into the skin.

"Glass?" Bobby asked as he approached us, having come in on the tail end of the conversation. "So he went through the window?"

"That's right. Good to see you, Detective. Why don't you have a better tan? Weren't you in the Virgin Islands?" she added with a grin. She loved to see him blush now that she knew how to do it.

"I…um…well…"

"You don't have to answer that," I told him, giving Liz a mock-glare. She shrugged at me, but kept smiling. "So what else do we know?"

"He had this in his hand. Managed to hold onto it all the way down."

Rodgers held up a baggie to let us see the contents. It was a necklace, a silver chain with a small cross pendant. I took the bag from her to get a closer look.

"It's a woman's necklace," I stated. "It's broken, and not at the clasp."

"So he was reaching for the killer as he went out the window, but only managed to grab the necklace?" Bobby suggested.

"It would take a pretty strong woman to get a man of his size through the window. I don't know," Liz argued.

"Why else would he have it in his hand?" I asked.

"Hey, what do I know? You two are the detectives."

"When are you going to get to him?" Bobby asked her.

"I've got one in front of him, but it should still be before lunch."

"You're going to check under his nails, right? Maybe he scratched the owner of this necklace as he pulled it off."

"Of course I will," she replied calmly.

I'd noticed recently that Rodgers had more patience with Bobby. I think she finally realized that when he asked these things, he wasn't trying to question her ability to do her job. He was merely thinking out loud about what aspects may prove to be important.

"Okay. Give us a call."

"Always. Oh, and I'd like to get together with you two sometime. Maybe see some pictures from your trip."

Pictures? I looked at Bobby and found that he staring back at me with a panicked look on his face. We had no pictures. We'd been plenty busy doing other things.

"Or…not," she continued hesitantly when we didn't respond.

"We'll get together," I told her. "We'll tell you all about it."

Bobby and I went up to the fortieth floor to check out Medina's office. It was in shambles, as though there had been quite the scuffle.

"This clears it up even more, huh?" I commented as we glanced around the office.

The wind was blowing through the room, making an even bigger mess of the papers that had been strewn across the floor. But it was obvious that the chaos was created by more than just the wind. A table was overturned, a few books were off of the shelves, and the safe was open. Open but not empty. It contained a handgun.

I wondered what other types of things he would keep in his office safe. Money? Or important papers? Maybe both.

I also wondered who would know about the safe. It had been in one of the larger desk drawers, under a false bottom.

I made mental notes and pushed forward.

"What was he doing in his office so early in the morning?" I pondered out loud.

"He did some work with the Japanese market," Bobby murmured as he poked through the mess of papers.

I looked at him and he held up a spreadsheet. "These numbers are for a company out of Sapporo. It would've been about the end of the business day for them when Medina was killed."

I stared at him for a moment. I never got used to the endless supply of little-known facts that he maintained. But it sure as hell made him a damn good detective.

"Okay, so he comes in to work with the Japanese market. Who else knows that he comes in early?" I turned to one of the office security guards who waited by the door. "Is there a visitors' log for this floor? Or do they keep track of employees coming and going?"

"It's for the whole building, ma'am. But I'll get you a copy of it."

I nodded at him and turned back to Bobby.

"Let's let them finish up in here. We should go talk to the ex and then have a sit-down with the brother. He was awfully quick to get us assigned to the case."

"Good idea. By the time we finish with them, Rodgers will probably be done with the autopsy. Did you get the information on the ex from the captain?"

"Yeah," I said. "She lives over in Murdock Woods. Her name is Irene Weston."

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Bobby POV

Now I knew why the name Carlos Medina was familiar. Irene Weston was an old girlfriend of mine. I remembered running into her years ago while working a case.

"_Carlos and me, we're saving up for a house," she'd told me._

"_Carlos, huh? Irene, you're breaking my heart."_

"_You blew your chance," she said._

I hadn't meant the part about her breaking my heart. I knew about Carlos. She'd met him at about the same time we'd stopped dating. Possibly even before, but I figured that there wasn't much use in poking that theory.

Besides, I was just doing a little harmless flirting. We'd had some good times together, and okay, so I'd probably dated her longer than anyone else in the previous decade, but still…it was nothing compared to what I had with Alex.

So why I panicked at the mention of her name, I have no idea. It wasn't like I'd seen her lately. Hell, I hadn't seen her since that day. But I couldn't shake the feeling that Alex wasn't going to like this.

"Goren, are you coming?" she called out. I realized she was already at the elevator and I was still standing outside of Medina's office.

Was that necklace Irene's? Was she involved? Oh, and this day had started out so well.

"I'm coming."

"So, what is it?" Alex asked me when we were on the elevator.

I could play dumb. I could say that I was just thinking about the case. But that wasn't me anymore. I didn't hide things from Alex.

Nothing good ever came of it when I kept secrets from her.

Besides, I had no doubt that she'd figure it out as soon as she saw Irene.

"I used to date her," I said quickly.

"Irene Weston?"

"Yeah. A long time ago."

"Okay," she said. I was finally brave enough to look her in the eye. "Bobby, it's fine. Did you think I'd be mad?"

"I…wasn't sure," I admitted.

"Mad that you dated this woman? That's just crazy."

"Are you sure?"

"It's not like you were married to her, right?" she asked.

"No."

"Have you called her since we've been together?"

I hesitated. She rolled her eyes theatrically.

"Since we've been _together_. Not since we've been _partnered_ together."

"No," I answered, grateful that she hadn't meant the latter, because I had called her. I called her when I was working that case so that I could arrange to speak with her.

She reached out and pushed the stop button on the elevator while we were between the eighth and ninth floors.

"Relax. She's an old friend. You don't need to feel weird about it, or worry that I'm going to go off on you in some jealous rage, okay? You were allowed to date back then."

"Okay."

But see, I knew that wasn't going to be the end of it. Because the source of my inital panic finally became clear to me.

As much as I wished it weren't true, I knew that Alex had a complex about her looks. For some reason, she thinks I love her _in spite_ of her looks. No matter how many times I've told her otherwise, she thinks that I wished she were different.

She thinks I wished she looked exactly like Irene. And so I knew that as soon as Alex saw her, the easy-going attitude was going to change.

We stopped by 1PP first to pick up a department SUV, and then we rode out to Murdock Woods in companionable silence. It was actually a nice drive. The sun was up, the sky had cleared, and the traffic was light.

As we turned onto Irene's street, Alex took a hand off the wheel and set it on my leg. I was surprised by the gesture since we were in work-mode, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

"Do you know how long they've been divorced?" she asked me.

"No. I really haven't talked with her in nearly ten years."

"Did you recognize the necklace? Do you think it's hers?"

"I don't know. I didn't recognize it, but…this is…awkward."

"Awkward? Talking about her? Come on, we've been through this kind of thing already. We had to dig into Carolyn's past, Mike's…"

"Not yours."

"Some of mine," she countered. "We've talked about Joe. I told you about a couple of the guys I went out with since him."

And I hadn't liked that one damn bit, so that didn't make me feel much better.

"Look, here's the thing. We went out for a few months. I think I probably dated her longer than any girl since high school. Until you, of course. She had her own career so she wasn't demanding of my time. And she liked to play poker, so she would come with me sometimes when I would go out to Lewis' for a game."

"Okay."

"It was easy. She didn't pressure me for more. Well, not at first. And then when she did, I walked away. I didn't call her for a few weeks until she finally got the idea. I was too afraid to just break it off face to face."

"So she's pissed at you," she said with a small smile.

"No. I don't think so. I saw her after that, after I was partnered with you. That case we worked, where the old man was burned alive in his panic room? I talked to her then. She was with Carlos then. But she didn't act like she hated me."

"So be nice to her. She's going to be upset. It's okay if she reaches out to you for a little support."

"Okay."

"A _little_ support," she added with a smirk as she pulled into the driveway. "Don't get carried away."

We got out of the SUV and went up the walk. Irene must have seen us coming because she opened the door as we got to the front steps.

I could literally feel the change in Alex's mood as Irene came into view. Because of course, even at six o'clock in the morning, she was still beautiful. I'm not going to lie and say that she's not.

But I didn't even feel the faintest spark of interest.

She's wasn't Alex-beautiful. She wasn't Alex, period.

"Bobby," she greeted carefully. "What are you doing out here?"

"Hi, Irene. It's been awhile. Um…this is my…partner…Detective…Goren. Um, may we come in?"

That could've gone better. But we were here officially, so it wouldn't be appropriate to introduce Alex as my wife. Although the use of the name Goren had brought out a funny look from Irene, but that was fine. It wasn't like I was trying to hide the fact that we were married.

She stepped back and allowed us entry. We paused in the foyer and waited for her to close the door, and then we followed her into the living room.

"Please, Bobby. Tell me why you're here."

I wandered around, looking at the décor, unable to stop and focus on any one thing.

But then I did. And I became completely and utterly speechless.

"Your ex-husband, Carlos," Alex began since I'd remained silent. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but he was killed this morning."

I heard Alex say the words, but I couldn't focus. I heard Irene begin to cry, and the two of them sat down together on the sofa, with Alex offering up words of comfort.

But I still couldn't move.

I was too busy doing math in my head.

Because there, on the mantle, was a photo.

A photo of a ten-year-old boy with dark brown eyes and curly hair.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Alex POV**

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I have to admit it.

When I saw Irene, I went from detective to jealous wife in about a millisecond.

_This is the old girlfriend? _

And why was I surprised that she looked like she stepped off the pages of a magazine even though it was barely six o'clock in the morning?

And was my hair still standing up after being blown all to hell in that breezy, fortieth-floor office?

And then I grabbed onto rational thought again.

The fortieth-floor office. Where this woman's ex-husband had been pushed from.

Self-control, Detective _Goren_.

"Bobby," she greeted carefully. "What are you doing out here?"

Bobby. She calls him Bobby, too. And then I thought, _of course she does_. What the hell else would she call him?

"Hi, Irene. It's been awhile. Um…this is my…partner…Detective…Goren. Um, may we come in?"

I gave him points for introducing me as Detective Goren. Obviously, he couldn't say _wife_, although I was repeating the word in my head just in case she had any kind of psychic abilities.

And then I had to chastise myself again.

The man to whom she was once married had just been _murdered_. It was unlikely that she was going to consider trying to rekindle an affair with Bobby.

When we got into the living room, Bobby started wandering around in his typical fashion.

"Please, Bobby. Tell me why you're here," she said. I could tell she was worried, and who wouldn't be? She knew what line of work we were in.

I watched Bobby, waiting for him to deliver the news, but instead he came to a dead stop in front of the mantel, so I took over the dirty work.

"Your ex-husband, Carlos," I said. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but he was killed this morning."

She was appropriately shocked. I'd been watching her reaction to see if there was any indication that she already knew, but I didn't think she did. I couldn't picture this woman shoving the man out of his office window.

She sat down on the couch and started to cry. I looked at Bobby, but he still hadn't moved. _What is his deal_?

I sat down next to her and patted her on the arm.

"I know he was my ex, but…I still loved him," she said.

"We do need to ask you a few questions," I said to her as gently as I could. I looked back over my shoulder at Bobby.

"Of course," she sniffled. "I understand. Can you…um…can you excuse me for just a minute?"

"Sure."

Irene got up and went down the hall to what I assumed was the bathroom. I went over to where Bobby stood.

"What's going on?" I asked him. "You're leaving me…"

I stopped talking when I saw the focal point of his gaze.

My heart jumped into my throat. I looked at Bobby and he looked back at me with a petrified expression on his face.

"There's…no…it…" he stammered.

"Bobby," I said quietly with forced composure. "When exactly did you date her?"

"I…um…oh my God," he whispered. He closed his eyes and the color drained from his face. "It was…um…about eleven years ago."

"You didn't know? She never said anything?" I asked. They were stupid questions because _of course_ he didn't know. If he had known, then I would know. I trusted him.

"There's no way," he muttered. "There's just no way that he's…"

"He's yours."

Irene had come back. And those two little words broke my heart on so many levels.

I fought with myself for professionalism. I struggled to find the poise I usually maintained with ease, but I was crumbling on the inside.

Bobby had a son? With this woman?

I couldn't fully comprehend the enormity of this revelation.

Bobby didn't want kids. I knew that. But I also knew that he would never turn his back on a child, his child, if he knew of his existence. By her silence, Irene had taken away the first ten years of Bobby's relationship with his son. It would make him feel just like his own absentee father.

And having a child with a woman…that created a bond between two people that was never broken. Now he had this bond with a woman other than me. He would forever share something special with her that I wasn't a part of.

"What?" Bobby croaked out. "How can that be? How could you not tell me?"

"I let Carlos believe that he was his."

"Are you sure that he's not?" I asked. I had to ask. I wasn't just going to take her word for it. She'd spent the last ten years living a lie with her husband. It wasn't a stretch to think that maybe she was just lying now. Or did she even know the truth?

"Look at him," Irene said, nodding her head toward the picture. "He's Bobby's."

I had to get out of this house.

But I also had work to do. We were here to question her.

_Shit, how did this get so complicated_?

I'd had such good intentions of being a grown-up about this. I was secure with Bobby's love for me. I wasn't going to feel threatened by the damn fashion model of an ex-girlfriend.

But now I was.

Because now maybe she was the mother of Bobby's child.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to run screaming from the house and never look back.

But instead, I briefly touched Bobby on the arm and then took a step closer to Irene.

"Where were you at around three a.m. this morning?" I asked her. I was pleased that my voice came out sounding calm because my heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

Irene pulled her gaze away from Bobby and looked at me in surprise.

"You think I killed Carlos?"

"Did you?"

"Of course not! I was here, all night."

"Can anyone confirm that?"

"I…well…yes," she stammered. But she didn't elaborate. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she looked to Bobby for help, but he was in complete vapor-lock. I wasn't sure if he even comprehended our conversation.

"We need a name," I insisted.

"It's just that…" she began, and then stopped again.

"Ms. Weston," I said, reverting to being formal.

_She could be the mother of Bobby's son_, my brain screamed again.

And then the more juvenile side of me yelled out, _he had unprotected sex with her!_

Why would he do that?

Wait, I was asking her a question. _Focus, Alex_.

"Ms. Weston, we need to know who can corroborate your alibi. I need a name."

"It was Antonio," she replied at last. "Antonio Medina."

"And he's related to the victim…"

"It's his brother. And he's married, so please be discreet."

Great. What a woman. She has a son with one man and doesn't tell him. She passes that boy off as another man's son. And now she's sleeping with the married brother of her ex-husband.

This was a damn soap opera, and me and Bobby were smack in the middle of it.

"Where is…he?" Bobby finally asked as he picked up the picture.

He turned around to face me, and held my gaze while he waited for Irene's answer. The hurt in his eyes was evident, as was the fear. I had no doubt that he was terrified of my reaction.

"His name is Dylan. He's at my mother's. He spent the night with her last night."

"So that you could be with your lover. Your ex's brother," I clarified.

"Right," she said quietly.

"I'll need his contact information. I'll have to confirm your story."

"That's fine. It's…it's not what you think. Carlos knew about me and Antonio. We've been divorced for nearly a year now. We were still friends, though. He…stayed involved with….Dylan."

"Do you know why anyone would want to kill Carlos?" I asked. I needed to get this thing over with and get the hell out of here.

"No. He didn't have enemies."

"Not any? Come on now, that seems a little hard to believe," I insisted.

I gradually eased over closer to Bobby so that I stood in the middle of their line of sight.

She had continued to look to him for help and I didn't want that. I didn't want her looking at him for a damn thing.

"He worked hard. He was honest. He was likeable."

"Then why did you divorce him?"

"He…I…it was…"

I'd tripped her up again. I was silently pleased that I was making her flustered.

Bobby had said he'd talked with her, seen her after their break-up. The child would've already been born by that point. She had talked with Bobby, looked him in the eye, and not told him that he had a son.

"Ms. Weston. Why did you divorce Carlos?" I asked again, this time a little more forcefully.

"Dylan got sick. Eighteen months ago. He needed a blood transfusion."

"And Carlos found out that he wasn't a match," I stated flatly. My hope that maybe Carlos really was the boy's father just flew out the window.

Irene nodded her head.

"They typed both of us, and Dylan. I didn't know for sure until then. I always thought that he looked like Bobby, but…I just didn't know. And then when the doctor said it was impossible for Carlos to be the father…he just flipped out."

"I'm sure he did. You'd been lying to him for a long time."

"I'm so sorry, Bobby. I should have told you that it was a possibility. I just…I wanted things to work with Carlos, and I knew that if I told you then you would want to be involved."

"So you took that option away from me," he said quietly. "For selfish reasons, you kept me in the dark."

She dropped her head and remained silent. I almost _almost_ felt sorry for her.

But not quite. I was too devastated for myself. Too devastated for Bobby.

It was time to go. We needed to regroup.

"We'll be in touch," I told her, and I put my hand on Bobby's elbow and guided him out of the room. He still had the picture in his hand, but he didn't say a word.

We got to the SUV and climbed in, but neither one of us made any move to buckle up. I didn't put the keys in the ignition. We just sat.

"Alex…I…I just don't know what to say."

"I know."

"I can't believe this."

"I know."

"We have to take ourselves off of this case."

"No we don't," I told him. "We can do this. Do you think she killed him?"

"No."

"I don't either. So there's no conflict. We'll talk to Antonio and confirm her alibi. And then we'll talk to the other brother. What's his name? The firefighter…um…Diego."

Bobby was right. We should pass this case off. I was struggling to pull up basic facts, and I had serious doubts as to whether he had any brain function at all.

But I didn't want to. What if someone else took it over and then the word got out about Dylan? And yeah, that was very selfish of me, but until we knew for sure what was going on and what we were going to do about it, I didn't want anyone else to know.

"Alex…" he said. "I didn't have unprotected sex with her. I didn't. If he's mine…if that child is my son…it was because…there's always a slim chance…"

His voice cracked. He was bordering on a breakdown. And as upset as I was about this entire situation, I wasn't upset with _him_.

I reached across the seat and ran my hand along his cheek.

"We'll get through this."

He nodded, but kept his eyes closed. I leaned closer and kissed him softly.

"I love you. We'll do this together, I promise."

I sat back in my seat and started the engine with new conviction.

I knew we had a case to work, and I knew that we had to maintain a professional demeanor about this whole thing.

But I also knew something else.

I knew I was going to find a way to get my hands on Dylan Medina's medical records.

I was going to see what his blood type was and find out if it was even possible for Bobby to be his father.

And if the types were a match, then I was going to insist that Irene let us get a blood sample and do a paternity test. I wasn't going to take her word for it.

Obviously, she'd been sleeping with Bobby and Carlos at the same time.

Who's to say there wasn't a third guy in the mix?

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Alex POV**

* * *

Antonio Medina was an Urban Park Ranger for New York Parks and Recreation Department. The title made it sound more glamorous than probably it was.

He'd had to be at work at six o'clock, which would explain why Irene was up and dressed when we arrived. Surely he had slithered out of her bed at least an hour before.

I wondered where his wife was and what kind of lie he'd told her.

And then I figured it didn't matter. That aspect was irrelevant. For now, anyway.

As I drove toward Orchard Beach Nature Center, I pondered my next course of action.

Bobby wasn't going to be much help. Not yet anyway. He was still in a state of shock, and I didn't blame him.

It was a lot to take in.

He was most likely beating himself up for somehow not knowing.

And he was surely worried that now I was going to hate him and that the marriage would be over and that his life was doomed.

I knew how his mind worked.

And it didn't matter how far he'd come. A crisis like this was bound to knock him down a few pegs.

"I need your head in this," I told him gently. "I need you to think rationally about this."

"I know. I am."

"Then don't think quietly. Think out loud. I want to know what's going on in your head."

"No you don't."

"Bobby…"

"You don't, Alex, okay?" he barked out suddenly. "You don't want to know what I'm thinking!"

And then he ran his hand over his face and sighed heavily.

"Shit. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Be talkative."

I wasn't going to be upset with him for snapping at me. He snorted out a short laugh and shook his head.

"You are persistent."

"It's one of the things you love about me."

"Yes, yes it is. How is it that you're not spitting nails right now?"

"Oh, I am. But honey, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad for you. If this child is your son, then we'll deal with that. We'll do what's best for him and for you. But she was wrong, so wrong, to keep this from you. Even if it was only a possibility, she should've told you."

He reached over and grabbed my hand. He pulled it up to him and just held it against his lips.

"I was thinking back over the times that we were together. Me and Irene, I mean. I was making sure that I didn't lie when I told you I was always protected."

Okay, so he was right. I didn't want to know what he was thinking. But it was important that we keep the communication lines open.

I tapped into my vast stores of internal fortitude and plowed forward.

"Okay. And what did you come up with?"

"I didn't lie. There wasn't a single time."

"Do you think it's possible she was with someone else?"

"At the same time? Maybe. I mean, she was with Carlos then. Or close enough to the time that she with me for her to not be sure. I suppose there could've been someone else."

"Maybe in those three weeks that you didn't return her calls?"

"Maybe."

I parked the car at the Nature Center and cut off the engine.

"Now, promise me something,"

"Anything."

"No more thinking about the times you had sex with Irene. Or anyone but me, got it?"

I said it lightly, but I was dead serious.

I couldn't handle the idea that he was picturing himself in that situation, whether it was for practical purposes or not.

"No problem there," he agreed quickly.

He gave me a small smile, but then he reached out suddenly and placed his hand along the side of my head, his thumb gently stroking the area just below my ear. His gaze pierced mine and his eyes were filled with intense emotion.

"I love you so much. If I'd known back then that you were waiting for me…that you were in my future…I would've never wasted any time with anyone else."

And just like that, my world was right again. Even if only for the moment.

I needed to give him my reassurance. He needed to know that I was going to stand beside him no matter what the outcome.

Professionalism be damned. There was no one here to see us, even if we were on the clock.

So I leaned into him and even though it began as a series of light touches, a delicate repeated meeting of lips, it soon settled into a slow, tender kiss that rocked me to my core.

It was sensual and exhilarating.

It was innocent and yet promising.

It was familiar and yet unique.

But more importantly, it was a new level of closeness. It was a forged bond, the next level in our commitment to each other.

The kiss was a statement. It said that we're together and there wasn't a single thing that would ever change that.

Because a marriage isn't really a marriage until it's been tested by adversity.

Until then, it's still just the honeymoon.

I pulled back from Bobby, watching him closely to make sure that he'd received my message loud and clear.

He continued to hold my gaze, clearly as moved by the moment as I. Then he gave me a nearly imperceptible nod.

"So what's next?"

I was ready for him. I had a plan.

"I'm going to call Logan. He and Carolyn can find the hospital records from when Dylan had the transfusion. Hell, they can probably get the birth records, too. We don't have to tell them why, but at least if they're the ones doing it, we can keep it out of the department. If it turns out to be true, then you can tell people at your discretion, but until then, we don't need the rumor mill running at warp speed. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah. Good idea. Call Logan, and then we'll talk to Antonio."

* * *

Logan POV

The phone rang at seven-thirty just as I was working my way through my third cup of coffee.

Carolyn and I were back in our home after having installed a steel-plated front door and a state-of-the-art security system. I wasn't taking any more chances. I was thinking about getting a dog, too. A big one.

"Can you get that?" Carolyn called to me from the bathroom. The shower water had just cut off.

"Not if it means you'll come out here naked to answer it yourself," I replied. I stood in the bedroom with my coffee cup in one hand and the ringing phone in the other.

"Mike!" she yelled, but she was laughing. She was laughing a lot these days, and it thrilled me to no end that she was happy with me.

"I'm answering," I assured her as I put the phone to my ear. "Yeah, Logan."

"It's Alex. I need a favor."

"Why is it that almost all of our conversations start out like that?" I teased.

"Because I'm a terrible friend and I only call when I need something. Can you help me or not?" she replied sharply. _Okay, so she's not in a playful mood_.

"Of course. Sorry. What's up?"

"No, I'm sorry," she sighed. "It's been a rough morning. Um…I need you to pull some medical records."

"On the sly, I'm guessing, since you're calling me. Can I ask?"

"No. Not yet. Can you do it?"

"Always."

"Thanks. Really. Get the records on Dylan Medina. I don't have a date of birth, but he's approximately ten years old. He would've been in the hospital about eighteen months ago for something and while he was there he received a blood transfusion."

"You want the birth records, too?"

"If you can get them."

"No problem. Hey, how was the honeymoon?"

"Great," she replied with a little more enthusiasm. "You?"

We hadn't actually gone anywhere, but we'd enjoyed the hell out of staying in the ritzy hotel.

"A week at the Roosevelt? What's not to like?"

"Good point."

"Did you guys get moved in?"

"Sort of. We don't have any furniture yet, but we'll get there. You two need to come see the place."

"Tell me when, and we'll be there."

"Thanks, Mike," she said suddenly. "I'm really sorry I snapped at you."

"It's fine. You guys pick up a case this morning?"

"Yeah. Did you see on the news about the jumper on Thirty-Second Street?"

"You got that guy? It's a murder?"

"Looks that way. Hey, I've got to run. We're getting ready to talk to the brother now. Let me know what you find out, okay?"

"I will. Be careful."

That was going to be my standard disclaimer now. They were short-timers, and that made me nervous.

For some reason, things seemed to get more dangerous at the NYPD when a cop's time there was finite.

And the Gorens didn't need anything to be any more dangerous than it already was.

"Was that Alex?" Carolyn said as she came out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, she wants us to pull some medical records."

"Records that they can't get their hands on?" she questioned.

"Yeah. She wouldn't say why."

"Okay," she replied as she took my coffee cup from my hand. She finished off the last of my brew and then handed me back the empty cup and graced me with a lovely smile. "Let me get dressed and then we'll go into the office."

"You could go into the office like that," I suggested. I reached for her and pulled her up against me. I didn't mind at all that the dampness of her skin was making water spots on my suit. They'd dry. Or not. I really didn't care.

"Somehow I don't think we'd get much work done."

"And remind me again how that's a problem?"

We made it to the office by eight-thirty. We could've made it a little sooner, but Carolyn had gotten me all worked up. Yeah, I'm going to blame it on her. She could've gotten dressed before she came out of the bathroom.

"What's the name of the boy we're looking for?" she asked me as she searched through the hospital database.

And no, we weren't allowed to do this.

But if Alex needed it, then it was important enough to take the risk.

"Dylan Medina."

"That's the same last name as the jumper. Isn't that the case they're working on?"

"Yeah," I said slowly. I hadn't put the two together. I'd seen the story on the news, but I'd only been halfway listening when they'd mentioned the victim's name.

"Although I guess he's not a jumper if Major Case is working it," she continued. She was more talking to herself now, and that was fine because my mind was spinning.

Why would they want the records on this kid?

If it was related to the case, and I had no idea how it would be, but if it was then they would have legal venues to obtain the information.

And how could it not be related to the case? The victim had the same last name. And it wasn't a common last name.

"I think I've got something here," Carolyn said after quite a few minutes of searching. "Dylan Medina. He had a ruptured appendix a year ago last summer. They operated on him and removed it. He had a massive infection from the rupture and was in the hospital for ten days during which time he received two blood transfusions."

"What else?" I asked, and then I changed my mind. "No, never mind. They didn't ask us to analyze the information. They just asked us to get it. That's probably the right kid, though, so see if you can find the birth records, too."

It didn't take long since we now had the boy's exact date of birth.

"There it is. Dylan Robert Medina, son of Carlos and Irene Medina," I read aloud over Carolyn's shoulder. She hit the save button, capturing the data into a file on the desktop. Then she sat back to look at me.

"Carlos Medina is the dead guy. This boy is his son," she stated. "So why are we doing this on the down-low?"

"I don't know," I said.

"They're into something, aren't they?"

"Aren't they always?" I replied.

"Well," she said as she quickly sent an email with the requested information to Alex's cell phone. "We're going to give them their space. If they want our help, they'll ask."

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We found Antonio hard at work.

He was not what I'd expected. For starters, he was about twenty-five.

He looked like an underwear model. He was insanely tan despite the season, and dressed in khaki shorts and hiking boots.

He seemed to enjoy standing with one foot up on something, a stump or a bench…ostensibly so that he could show off his leg muscles.

We introduced ourselves, and he appeared unconcerned. I silently counted to ten while he gave Alex the once-over before he finally agreed to show us to a private office.

I proceeded to tell him about Carlos. He was oddly unaffected by the news of his brother's death.

I was amazed by the fact that he hadn't heard about it prior to our arrival, especially considering that I knew that his brother Diego had already been informed.

I was also amazed that he was going to stay at work.

_Interesting family dichotomy_.

We chatted him up and confirmed that he had in fact spent the night with Irene.

"Hell yeah, I spent the night with her," he said when Alex asked him the question. And then he turned to me. "Wouldn't you? I mean, have you _seen_ her?"

I wanted to punch him. Not in defense of Irene's honor or anything like that, but because his words had just added one more layer to Alex's self-doubt.

See, I know how her mind works.

She would always stand tough in the face of adversity. She would never show weakness or insecurity, but I knew that on the inside, her self-confidence was taking a slow and steady beat-down.

I'd been worried enough about interacting with Irene when I only considered her an ex-girlfriend. Now to think about the possibility that she was the mother of my child…

I shoved that thought out of my mind. I had to focus on work right now.

"What time did you leave Irene's house?" Alex asked. She was the picture of professionalism and I admired the hell out of her ability to stay calm.

"A little after five o'clock. Five-fifteen maybe. I'm not sure."

"When did you arrive?"

"Last night about midnight."

"And you were together the whole time?" I asked him.

Antonio stood up a little straighter and hiked his shorts up. He gave Alex a wink and leaned in close to her.

"We were _together_ the whole time."

"That's fascinating, really," she replied dryly. "Did she get any phone calls during that time?"

Antonio faltered for a moment, but then he shrugged.

"Yeah, she got two. One right after I got there, and then the other was a couple of hours later."

"So you weren't exactly _together_ the whole time," she remarked. "Do you know who it was that called?"

"No."

"You didn't ask?" I asked him.

"Why would I?"

"You know, if it's me, and I'm with a woman…and she gets a call in the middle of the night? I'm going to want to know who it is."

"That's you," he said defensively. Alex and I both continued to stare at him until he finally said, "Okay, I asked. She told me to mind my own business."

"Ouch," Alex said. "That had to hurt."

"Hey, she does her thing and I do mine, okay? It was no big deal."

"It's worth it to you? You're cheating on your wife with someone who's taking calls from another guy at two o'clock in the morning _while you're there with her_. That sounds kind of messed up."

Antonio puffed up again.

"Like I said, if you knew Irene, you'd understand. Besides, she's not the only one I've got on the side."

Alex rolled her eyes and looked at me in a way that said, _can I shoot him now, please?_

"Okay, thank you for your time Mr. Medina," I told him quickly before ushering Alex out of the office.

"Well that was enlightening," she said.

I wasn't sure exactly what she meant.

For a moment, it had seemed like we were back in stride, solving a murder case. And then it seemed like something else. I wasn't sure what to say, or if I should even say anything at all.

"He didn't seem to care that his brother was dead," I said at last.

"Yeah, I noticed that," she replied blandly, giving me no indication as to what she was really thinking.

By this time we were back at the truck. I put my hand on her arm to stop her before she got in.

"We're good, right?"

"You mean did it bug me that Antonio was talking about how great Irene is in the sack?"

"He was just trying to boost his own image. We've seen plenty of guys like that before."

"So you're saying that she wasn't all that great?"

The question wasn't asked with any hostility or in an accusatory tone. But still…

This was the kind of thing that was described as walking through a minefield. One inch in the wrong direction and I would be totally screwed.

"I'm saying she wasn't anything memorable. I walked away from her, remember? And I never looked back."

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "That wasn't fair of me. I should've never have asked you that question. You don't need to explain or justify anything to me. I mean, yeah, it did bug me. But I'll get over it."

Alex's phone buzzed before I could say anything further. She pulled it out and looked at the display.

"It's an email from Carolyn," she told me. "She found the records."

We leaned against the truck, side by side, while she opened up the documents. It took her a moment to scroll through all of the details, but I knew the moment that she found it. She let out a long, steadying breath.

"Dylan is A-positive."

I was A-positive, too. Of course, thirty-three percent of all Caucasians were A-positive – it's the second most common blood type.

But that didn't ease my mind. I had hoped that the records would contain information that would rule me out, not keep me included.

I did not want to be this boy's father. There were so many reasons, but mostly because I didn't want to have missed the first ten years of my son's life.

And then there was Alex. We didn't want kids, but damn it, if I was going to have one, it should be with her. I didn't want Irene to hold any significance in my life.

"What's Irene?" I asked her.

"O-positive. Dylan's father would have to be A-positive. Carlos was B-positive."

"Dylan was born on May 10," she continued as she read over the documentation.

I counted backwards in my head. I knew for a fact we had broken up by the time my birthday rolled around. I was pretty sure we were last together a couple of weeks before that which would've been around the first week of August. _Shit_.

"We should let Rodgers take a look at these," Alex suggested.

"You want to tell her?"

"No, but I want to know. There are a lot of doctor's notes included in these records. Liz might be able pick up on something that we don't."

When I remained quiet, she continued.

"Irene's held off telling you about Dylan for this long. Do you think she's going to willingly submit to having a paternity test done? And even if she did, do you want to wait for the results? It could take weeks. And if that's our last resort, then fine, but I'm hoping it's not."

"Okay," I agreed. "Let's go talk to Diego first, and then we'll check on Medina's autopsy. We can get her to look at the records while we're there."

"We don't have to tell her to match it up to you. We can say that we suspect that Dylan wasn't Carlos' son. She'll confirm that from the blood type, and then she might help us narrow down the suspect pool by giving us an indication of what medical criteria Dylan's father may possess."

I was once again in awe of her ability to work through a crisis. Was it any wonder that I loved this woman?

I hated that she doubted herself, and I really hated that she was comparing herself to Irene, because there was no comparison. But only time and reassurance was going to convince her of that.

I gave her a quick kiss before walking around to my side of the truck and climbing in.

"So let's go meet the other brother," I told her.

"You think he was sleeping with Irene, too?" she asked. It was meant as a joke, but I wasn't going to rule anything out.

"I don't know, but let's find out."

We found Diego at the firehouse. I guessed him to be about thirty. He was nearly as tall as me and built like a brick shithouse.

"Remind me not to piss this guy off," I murmured to Alex as we approached him.

"Diego Medina," Alex greeted him. "We're detectives with the Major Case Squad. I understand you requested our presence on your brother's case."

We had learned that it didn't sound right to introduce ourselves as Detective Goren and Detective Goren. It usually just threw people off track and then we ended up being the subjects of an irrelevant line of questioning.

"That's right," he replied, and then he looked at me. He seemed to be sizing me up, although I wasn't sure why. "You're Detective Goren, right?"

"Yes," I said, and I accepted his handshake.

"I appreciate you taking the case. Irene speaks highly of you."

"Since this morning?" Alex asked.

It was a good question.

It would've been strange to think that Irene talked about me prior to needing a homicide detective, but at the same time, she supposedly didn't know about Carlos' death until we arrived at her home.

So when had she talked about me?

"No, I mean all the time. You know, because of Dylan," he added in a hushed voice.

"So she…um…she told you…about that?" I asked.

"Well, yeah. It's not really a secret. Anyway, she says you're a good guy, and so when I heard about Carlos, I called a friend of mine in the department and pulled a few strings. I hope you don't mind."

This was just getting more and more strange. He didn't seem in the least bit upset about Carlos' death, either.

And Irene had been openly discussing the fact that I was Dylan's father? When she hadn't even told me?

I caught Alex's eye. She was clearly just as baffled by this latest turn of events.

She gave me a meaningful look.

_Let's just get to it, _it said_._

_You want to start, or me?_

_I'll do it. You jump in later._

"Mr. Medina, I'm sure you understand that it's standard procedure to eliminate family members from the suspect list as quickly as possible. Can you tell me where you were this morning between two and four-thirty?"

"I was…um…with Irene."

Oh, this was getting good. Alex looked at me and then back at Diego.

"Do you want to think about that for a minute? Because we've spoken with Irene. She didn't mention you," she told him.

And then I had an idea.

"In fact," I spoke up. "She provided an alibi for Antonio. We just spoke with him. He confirmed it."

"What? That's crazy! What would he have been doing at her place in the middle of the night?"

"You tell me," I stated. And then I lowered my voice and gave him a knowing look. "What do men do at Irene's place in the middle of the night?"

Then I realized that maybe my idea hadn't been such a good one.

Because Diego's face darkened to a deep shade of red.

One second I was standing next to Alex, and the next I had a fist against my jaw.

The force that went along with it was enough to send me backwards several steps. Diego went with me and got another shot to the same damn jaw.

I was seeing stars by this time, but the shock had worn off and so I managed to block his third punch.

"Step back, Diego!" Alex shouted. She stood slightly to the side with her weapon drawn and pointed at his head. She had the situation under control, but I wasn't done.

He'd just sucker punched me. Twice.

With the momentum gained from blocking his uppercut, I continued pushing forward until I had him up against a fire truck. I used my forearm to block his windpipe, and I leaned into him, putting all of my weight against him.

Other firemen came rushing into the room to see what was going on.

"Stay back," Alex warned. She still had her gun out. "Your buddy here is going to be under arrest for assaulting a police officer. Unless any of you want to join him down at 1PP, then just go back to whatever you were doing."

My ears were ringing like a school bell, and I was seriously pissed off.

Of course, so was Diego.

"What was that about, huh?" I shouted at him as I continued to lean into him. "You got a thing going with Irene? What, was she doing all of the brothers? Are there any more of you that I need to talk to?"

"She is not sleeping with Antonio," he ground out.

"Then why do she and he both say differently?" Alex asked reasonably. "Why would they both lie? Especially Irene because if she was with you, then she's leaving you hanging in the breeze. It's pretty obvious you have quite the temper."

"And the strength to shove your brother through a double-pane glass window," I added.

"I'm done," he said. "I'm done talking."

"No, you were right the first time," I told him as I flung him around and shoved his face against the truck. "You are _done_."

I jerked his hands behind him and reached for the cuffs that Alex held out to me.

"Diego Medina, you are under arrest for assault on a police officer."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Alex POV**

* * *

We took Diego in for processing and then left him in a holding cell. He'd clammed up and was waiting for his lawyer.

"You okay?" I asked Bobby when I finally had him alone again. His face looked pretty bad, but he was still able to move his jaw okay, so I didn't think anything was broken.

"I knew I shouldn't have pissed him off," he muttered.

"But you pushed the right button," I told him. "Something strange is going on in that family. All three Medina men were sleeping with the same woman?"

"Irene said that Carlos knew about Antonio. And it didn't seem to bother her to give him up, other than wanting to make sure we didn't get him into trouble with his wife. I think Diego is the odd man out."

I nodded as I pulled a bag of Insta-Ice from the first aid box. I shook the bag in my hand until I felt the coolness spread and then I held it up to Bobby's jaw.

"You think Diego wants to be with her but isn't. So it bothers him that she was with Antonio."

"Yeah."

"Then why would Diego use her as his alibi?"

"I think Diego is the one who made the phone call, the one Antonio asked about and was told to mind his own business. Irene wouldn't have admitted to Diego that Antonio was there, so he probably figured that if she was alone, then she would cover for him."

"But that would mean that he killed Carlos. Otherwise why would he need an alibi?"

"Maybe he was alone and didn't think we'd believe him. Or…"

"Or he was with someone else and he didn't want to give up the name."

I thought about that for a minute as I continued to hold the ice pack against Bobby's face.

Even if Diego was in love with Irene, it didn't give him a motive to kill Carlos. They were already divorced. And Irene had been telling people that Dylan was Bobby's kid? Why would she do that?

Although Antonio hadn't shown any spark of recognition at the name Detective Goren. Did that mean that he didn't know, or that he simply didn't put two and two together? He didn't seem like the sharpest knife in the drawer, so it was hard to say.

"Hey," Bobby said quietly, interrupting my thoughts. "Think out loud, remember?"

"I'm just trying to piece together motive," I admitted. "How's the jaw?"

"He's got a great right hook, I'll give him that. I have no problem picturing him shoving Carlos out of a window."

My phone buzzed, so Bobby took over holding onto the ice pack and I pulled out my cell.

"It's Liz. She's got Carlos on the table now. Let's go. Maybe we can get some answers."

We stopped by my desk first where I transferred the medical records from my cell phone onto my computer so that I could print them out. I didn't want Liz to know that they'd been illegally obtained.

"I hope you weren't expecting much from me," Rodgers said when we entered the autopsy suite. _If she only knew_.

She looked up from the body and uttered a sound of shock at the sight of Bobby.

"What happened to you? You look like you got hit by a Mack truck!"

"That sounds about right," Bobby agreed. Liz went over to him and after pulling off her gloves, she began poking and prodding along his jaw line. He tolerated her mothering, even though I knew he was anxious to move things along.

Apparently satisfied that nothing was broken, she pulled out a new pair of gloves and went back to the body.

"He's pretty mangled up," she continued as though she'd never stopped. "It's hard to determine what was caused from the fall versus what injuries were pre-existing."

"What did you come up with?" I asked casually as though this was the only reason we were there.

Because I knew it was important. I knew we needed to solve this murder.

But for the better part of ten years, I'd allowed my life to take a backseat to the job.

Today I wasn't going to be able to do that.

I was still going to work on this case, but I was going to work just as hard on finding proof that Bobby was not Dylan's dad. And I truly believed that he wasn't.

Condoms fail. I know that.

And if after learning more about Irene, I'd discovered that she was a faithful, sexually responsible woman then maybe I'd be more inclined to believe her story.

But as it stood, she didn't appear to be any of those things.

She was promiscuous and dishonest.

There was a reason that she wanted Bobby to believe he was Dylan's father, but I don't think that the reason was because it was the truth.

I think it went deeper than that.

I think she knew that Bobby was vulnerable in this type of situation due to his own family history.

I think she knew that he would step up to the plate.

I think she knew that he would sacrifice his own needs and interests to help someone less fortunate, and if that meant taking over the parental duties of a child he'd had no previous knowledge about, then he'd do it without question.

That was the real kicker. She knew he wouldn't question her word.

And I don't think for a second that she counted on me to be looking out for his best interest.

"He'd broken his nose previously," she stated. "I'd say maybe a few weeks ago. And he had some healing fractures in his hand."

"So he'd gotten into a fistfight," I said, looking over at Bobby. He nodded at me slightly. "What else?"

"That's about all, I'm afraid. If he had fresh bruises or broken bones before the fall, I can't tell. Just about every bone in his body was broken on impact."

"Okay," I said thoughtfully. And then I pulled out the papers that I'd brought. "Can you take a look at these? Carlos left behind an ex-wife and a son, but we have reason to believe that Carlos might not have been the boy's real father."

It took Liz a full thirty seconds to come across the discrepancy in the blood type.

"Well, the father definitely wasn't Carlos. The father of this child would have to have A-positive blood."

"Anything else jump out at you?" Bobby asked. She gave him a curious look, and then looked over at me.

"It may shed some light on motive if we can find out who the real father is," I explained.

"The mother won't come clean?" she asked.

"We're not sure if she's being truthful."

She spent three minutes reading the reports. Three long minutes during which time I silently begged her to find something concrete, something that would eliminate Bobby.

"I don't know if this helps at all, but the child wasn't full-term."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he was born at thirty-six weeks. That would put the conception date at four weeks later than the date of birth would normally indicate. The child was born May 10th? Conception would've been the end of August, maybe even the first of September."

I looked at Bobby, but he was quickly heading out into the hallway.

"Thanks," I said to Liz as I ran after him. "I'll be back!"

"Bobby, what is it?" I asked him once we were in the hall. My heart was in my throat.

But he suddenly turned and pulled me into his arms, literally picking me up and swinging me around.

"I broke it off with her before my birthday," he told me, his emotion nearly getting the better of him. "A couple of _weeks_ before my birthday."

August 20th.

So a couple of weeks before that meant that there was no way that he was Dylan's father.

A tremendous surge of relief raced through me, enough to make me not care that Bobby was still holding me off the ground.

"I can't even begin to tell you how relieved I am," he said into my hair. "And I feel guilty, I do, I feel guilty that I'm so happy about not being that boy's father. He should have a father, a good one, but I'm just so, so glad it's not me."

"Me, too," was all I could say. It was the understatement of the year, but I couldn't get any other words to come out.

"She had to know," Bobby said after finally setting me back on my feet. Even though I was once again standing on my own, he still didn't let me go. He kept his hands on my waist, seeking out that connection I know he'd feared would be broken.

"She had to know the baby was four weeks early. That's a big deal, especially ten years ago."

"Could she have forgotten when you broke up?" I asked, giving her the benefit of the doubt. And I didn't want to do that, but we had to try to remain impartial.

"No. We were…we were going to take a…a trip. On my birthday. Well, for my birthday, but the week after. She'd planned it out the month before. She was really mad at me for breaking it off with her, and I remember thinking at the time that she was more upset about losing her deposit from the trip than she was about us breaking up."

"Maybe she didn't lose her deposit. Maybe she took someone else."

"We need to get back. With the contradiction in alibis and Antonio's mention of phone calls, we can pull the records. Let's find out who called Irene at two a.m.

I stuck my head back into the autopsy room to thank Liz. She promised to look over the records more thoroughly and said she'd be in touch if she found anything more.

Then we headed back to 1PP.

Logan called as we were on our way up to the eleventh floor.

"Everything okay?" he asked cautiously. I realized he was treading carefully around me.

"It's fine," I assured him. "Hey, Mike, I'm sorry…"

"Wonder Woman never apologizes for anything, got it? Now, is there anything else we can do to help?"

That sounded more like Logan, and I broke into a smile, grateful for his understanding.

"No, but I have a feeling that me and Bobby are going to need a few beers tonight. Are you guys up for it?"

"You have to ask?"

"No," I chuckled. "I'm not sure when we'll be done, but I'll call you, okay?"

We stepped out of the elevator and were greeted immediately by Ross shouting across the squad room.

"Detective Goren. A word please?"

Bobby and I looked at each other and then back at Ross. He sighed in annoyance and then dramatically pointed a finger at Bobby.

"That Detective Goren," he said and then went back into his office to wait for Bobby.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," he insisted. "You've been with me the whole time."

"Go find out," I replied. "I'll get started on the records."

Bobby went into Ross' office and just as the door closed, the phone on Bobby's desk rang, so I answered it. It was the officer downstairs.

"I have a visitor here for Detective Goren. A Ms. Irene Weston. Is it okay if I bring her up?"

"That's fine. Take her into Conference Room 2."

I hung up and looked into Ross' office. He was ranting about something, gesticulating wildly, while Bobby stood still.

I wasn't going to interrupt. In fact, it was actually a good thing that Bobby was distracted.

I had a few things I wanted to discuss with Irene.

I waited until the officer had escorted her into the room and I watched as she took a seat, and then I made my move.

"What brings you here?" I asked politely as I entered the conference room and closed the door behind me.

"Where's Bobby?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. You asked for Detective Goren."

"Look, I just need a few minutes with Bobby. I understand that you want to protect your partner…"

"Husband," I corrected.

"It's just that…what?" she looked up at me in confusion.

"I'm protecting my _husband_. And what exactly is it that you think I need to protect him from?"

She continued to stare at me and for a moment, I wondered if I had her wrong. Maybe she wasn't trying to play him.

But my uncertainty only lasted a moment.

She stood up from the table and rose to her full height. She seemed to enjoy the fact that she towered over me. She also didn't waste any time with small talk.

"He married _you_?" she laughed.

That shot was a direct hit and it was all I could do not to react.

I was standing face to face with the kind of woman I'd always imagined that Bobby wanted. And she was mocking the idea that he was with me. It was hard to swallow, but I did.

"Why did you want him to think that he's Dylan's father?"

"Because he is."

"You and I both know that's not true."

She laughed again, tossing her hair back behind her shoulder, and then she looked at me as though she knew a secret.

"Why because he told you we never had unprotected sex? You're his wife. Of course he's going to say that now."

Now see? Why did she have to say something like that?

Why couldn't women just fight like men?

I would've loved for her to come at me so that I could vent some of my frustration.

Bobby got to slam Diego into a fire truck.

I wanted to throw this bitch up against the wall.

But instead, I stayed calm.

"No, because Dylan was conceived at least three weeks after Bobby broke up with you."

She stopped smiling for a moment and shook her head.

"That's not true. He was born on May 10th. He was conceived in early August."

"He was four weeks early. And you knew that."

My phone buzzed at my hip, so I carefully eased a couple of steps away from Irene so that I could take a look at it. It was a text from Rodgers.

_The baby was tested for Marfan's. The mother or the father must have it or they wouldn't have tested_. _Carlos doesn't have it._

I was going to have to kiss Liz the next time I saw her. I closed my phone and looked back at Irene.

"Do you have Marfan's Syndrome?"

"What? How is that relevant?"

"Just answer the question."

"I…I…"

"And just in case you're thinking about lying, I already have a warrant for your medical records."

I didn't, but hell, she didn't know that.

"No. I don't."

"Bobby doesn't have it either. But Dylan's father does. And you know that. You know who he is because you had Dylan tested for Marfan's."

The silence loomed heavily as Irene processed the latest information.

"You're a real bitch, you know that?"

"Because I wasn't willing to take your word for something? Because I look out for Bobby, watch his back to help keep him from falling victim to predators like you? If that makes me a bitch, then yeah," I agreed, and I took a step closer to her. "I'm a bitch."

"You know, it wouldn't take much for me to get him back," she told me in a haughty tone.

"Not much? Like a tranquilizer gun and some rope?"

But then I forced myself to be professional. I wasn't going to stoop to her level. I didn't need to fight over my man. I knew he wasn't going anywhere.

"Who is Dylan's father and why were you trying to pin it on Bobby?"

"Go to hell."

The door flung open but I didn't turn to look. I wasn't about to take my eyes off of Irene.

"Detective Goren," Ross said in an authoritative tone. "Why don't you take a break. I'll keep Ms. Weston company."

"We're fine."

"Detective," he said again, only this time he stepped closer in an attempt to get in between us.

I glanced at him quickly and noticed that most of the detectives in the squad room had gathered outside of the conference room. _Great_.

"Is it Antonio?" I asked, ignoring Ross. "Diego? Or is there a fourth brother that you're sleeping with, too?"

I wasn't expecting the assault even though I'd been daydreaming about it only moments before.

She lunged at me, shoving Ross aside as she grabbed my hair and pulled my head back.

I should've known she'd fight like a girl.

I turned around, trying to maneuver myself into a better position. Ross regained his balance and stepped back into us.

"Let her go," he told Irene. "Or I'll place you under arrest."

She had a death grip on my hair. I could almost see why girls did this, although I'd never been in a fight like this in my life.

"Irene!"

That was Bobby. It distracted her enough to cause her to loosen her grip slightly. I shifted around and launched an uppercut at her perfectly sculpted jaw.

But instead, I hit Ross.

He dropped like a rock, knocked out cold.

Bobby stepped over Ross to grab Irene by the arms. He jerked her around and shoved her face-first down onto the table and then pulled her hands behind her back and cuffed her.

"Bobby…" she cried.

"Irene Weston, you are under arrest for assault on a police officer," he stated, ignoring her pleas. He finished Mirandizing her and then he stood her up and passed her off to another officer.

Two detectives were crouched over Ross and a third went to get the smelling salts from the first aid kit.

I stood still in the center of the room, watching the scene unfold around me.

"Are you okay?" Bobby asked as he gently touched my head. I nodded and he began tenderly running his fingers through my hair. "Are you sure?"

"Is he okay?" I asked Jeffries, who was still squatting next to Ross. The captain was just starting to open his eyes, and the bruise on his face was already beginning to form.

"Yeah," he replied, biting back a chuckle. "He'll be fine. You pack a hell of a punch, Eames."

We left the conference room and went down the hall into an unused observation room so that we would have some privacy.

"What happened in there?" Bobby asked.

I told him about the text from Liz.

"So that clears it up for sure then. We don't have to worry about the accuracy of the conception date," he concluded. "Dylan's father will test positive for Marfan's."

"That's right."

"What else did she say to you?" he asked me, his eyes filled with concern. "It wasn't all about Dylan, was it?"

"No, but it's fine. I think she got my point. You're not the only one good at pushing buttons, you know," I told him.

I wasn't going to get into our conversation. He already felt bad enough about the whole situation, and I wasn't going to make him feel worse by recounting her taunts.

"By the way, what was Ross so steamed about?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied. "Apparently Diego is pressing charges against me. He says that I assaulted him, and that the only reason he punched me was in self-defense."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Ross POV**

* * *

I was in the middle of having a nice little chat with the original Goren.

It was going well. I was getting my point across.

I knew damn well that he would've never assaulted Diego Medina, but I had to run down the standard political admonishment.

What made this whole thing even more ridiculous was that Goren looked like he'd gone five rounds with Holyfield while Diego appeared unscathed.

Okay, so maybe he had some redness on his throat, and probably a lump on the back of his head, but I wasn't going to sweat Goren over this.

Not any more than I needed to.

He should be used to me by now. He should know that I'll say what I have to say to stay by the book. That doesn't mean I won't give him a wink and a nod and tell him to keep going.

And okay, so maybe I hadn't done that nearly as much as I should've, but I did do it from time to time.

I wasn't as clueless as everyone liked to believe.

I'd looked the other way when he and Eames started a relationship. Mostly, anyway. Hey, I'd even ignored the fact that he'd worked with her on that Walter Raleigh case last year. Yeah, I knew about that. But I figured there was no harm in it as long as I didn't _know_ about it.

So I was standing there giving Goren the required what-for when he gave me the most flabbergasted look, followed by a grand gesture toward his own damaged face.

I want to laugh, so I'd had to turn around to hide my expression.

But when I turned around, I found myself looking through the windows of the conference room across the bullpen.

I had no idea what my female Detective Goren was up to, but it didn't look good.

I asked Goren, but he seemed as much in the dark as I was.

That meant it was _really_ not good.

Alex didn't go rogue unless it was to protect Goren, and if that was what was happening here, then I almost felt sorry for the Weston woman.

I gave Goren strict instructions to stay in my office. I knew damn well that he wouldn't follow my orders, but I had to say it anyway.

And then I hustled over to the conference room and flung open the door.

Neither woman glanced at me.

The tension in the air was palpable and I was actually relieved that it was two women standing there instead of two men, because if it'd been men, there would undoubtedly be fists flying.

"Detective Goren," I said firmly. "Why don't you take a break? I'll keep Ms. Weston company."

"We're fine," she replied.

"Detective," I said again, and then I stepped close to them to provide a buffer zone.

Alex looked over at me for a only second, and the intensity in her eyes was unlike any I had ever seen. Whatever was going on in here was personal.

"Is it Antonio?" she asked. Her tone was taunting. Okay, maybe it wasn't personal. Maybe she was just playing her and trying to get her to break. "Diego? Or is there a fourth brother that you're sleeping with, too?"

I had no idea what she was referring to since I had not yet been brought up to speed on the case, but it didn't matter. Things went rapidly out of control from there. I was pushed aside as the Weston woman grabbed Alex by the hair.

"Let her go," I warned. "Or I'll place you under arrest."

"Irene!" the other Goren shouted as I leaned in to get a hold of Irene.

And that was the last thing I remember.

The next thing I knew, I woke up on the floor in the conference room, staring into Jeffries' grinning face.

I could hear voices around me, but I wasn't able to comprehend any words. Then someone waved an ammonia stick under my nose and everything became crystal clear.

_Alex hit me._ And then my next thought was, _damn she hits hard_.

"Sir, can you stand up?"

_No_, I wanted to say.

But I had an image to maintain. That image was likely blown all to hell since I'd been knocked out by a woman, but at the very least, I could make it a quick recovery.

I got up and pretended that my knees weren't weak.

"You should get that checked out," Jeffries told me. He was obviously trying to hold back a chuckle.

"I will. Where's Irene Weston?" I asked him in an effort to regain control.

"She's in holding. Goren arrested her for assault. Want me to charge Eames with assault, too?"

"Jeffries, don't you have work to do?" I asked him in annoyance.

I was never going to live this down.

Jeffries left me alone in the conference room. I pulled out my phone.

"Are you busy?" I asked Liz when she answered.

"No, what do you need?"

"I'm coming over."

I didn't go looking for the Gorens.

I figured they were back to working on the case, and I also figured that Alex was suitably upset that she'd hit me, so the best thing to do was to let a little time pass.

The other Goren probably thought that I was going to suspend him for the Diego thing, but I wasn't. Diego was an idiot, and I didn't care what kind of threats he chose to make, there was no way he could convince me that Goren had attacked first.

So I headed for the morgue.

It was one advantage of having a doctor for a wife. My jaw was stiff and sore and I needed to make sure that it wasn't broken. I didn't think so, since I was able to talk without increased pain, but it still hurt like hell.

"I'll be just one more minute," Liz said to me when I entered the autopsy suite. She didn't look up from the body she was examining.

"Take your time," I told her as I slumped into a chair.

She looked up, presumably because of my mumbled speech.

"Danny, what the hell happened to you?" she asked. She quickly pulled off her gloves and came over to where I sat.

"There was an…incident."

"I can see that. Who hit you?"

"It was…um…"

Damn, I did not want to tell her. But she was going to find out anyway, so there was no use in trying to hide it.

"It was Detective Goren."

"Why would he do that?" she asked in confusion. "What did you do?"

"What did I do? Why would you assume that I did something?"

I didn't jump to correct her inaccurate assumption about which Goren was involved. Partly because I was too annoyed that she presumed I had provoked him. And then of course, it was also partly because I was a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she said.

She put her hand on my chin and ran her fingers along my jaw and mumbled something about having done this once already today. I guess Goren had been down here after his run-in, too.

"I shouldn't have said that," she continued. "It's just that he's so rarely physical."

And she was right. I couldn't argue with her logic. It was exactly why I wasn't going to press the Diego issue.

"It was the other Detective Goren," I admitted.

"Alex?" she asked in surprise.

"Uh huh. It was an accident. I was caught in between her and her intended target."

"Lucky for her intended target. Not so lucky for you. Were you unconscious at all?" She pulled out a light and shined it into my eyes.

"Briefly, yes. I'm not sure how long. A minute maybe."

"Huh."

"Go ahead," I told her on a sigh.

"Go ahead and what?"

"I know you want to laugh."

"Danny, I would never laugh at you."

She'd been going for sincere, but I could tell she was on the verge. She stepped back from me and tried to school her features.

I appreciated her support, but I had to admit that it was kind of funny.

And I needed to quit worrying so much about my manly image.

I would bet that there weren't too many men who had taken a straight shot from Alex and still had memories of the subsequent events.

"You're going to miss those two, aren't you?" she asked me as she ran her hand over my hair.

"Yeah. You know, I never thought I'd say it, but I am."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

We left the observation room and found that Ross had disappeared.

"Was he okay?" Alex asked Jeffries.

"He said he was going to get his jaw checkout out. Although he didn't say it quite so clearly," he joked.

Alex looked up at me with concern.

"It was an accident," I reminded her.

"Yeah, and he should know better than to get in between a couple of chicks in a fight."

"You should know better than to call Detective Goren a chick," I warned. Jeffries quickly stopped laughing and held up his hands in supplication.

"Sorry. No offense. But it's a good thing you already quit," he added before he walked away.

"I'm not going to miss him," Alex muttered.

"We might've gotten lucky," I told Alex as I sat down across from her at our desks. "I think Ross was going to send me home, but he got distracted when he caught sight of you and Irene in the conference room. He told me we'd finish our discussion later."

"Yeah, it's going to be a little later than he thought."

I watched Alex as she tentatively moved her fingers, opening and closing her hand.

"Your hand okay?" I asked her. I had been so concerned with her head that I hadn't thought to look at her knuckles. Although Ross did seem to have a glass jaw.

"It'll be fine. We can have matching ice packs tonight when we get home," she told me. "So what's next?"

"Well, we've got probable cause now," I told her. "We can probably get the medical records pulled for all of the Medina men."

"You think we can sell the paternity question as motive?"

"Enough to get the records, yeah."

Alex called the ADA and was promised a return phone call as soon as the warrant came through. In the mean time, I wanted to take another run at Irene.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Alex said.

"Why not?"

"She wants something from you, Bobby. Until we know for sure what that is, I think she's dangerous."

"She's in a holding cell."

"You know what I mean."

"I need to see if she'll tell me what's going on. This isn't like her. Or it's not like how she used to be."

"Okay, fine. But I'm coming with you."

"Now I don't think _that's_ a good idea."

"Why not?" she asked, finishing off the echo of our earlier exchange.

"I don't think you two need to be in the same room again, ever," I told her as I tried to hold back the smile.

It had been a surreal experience to see the two of them in the conference room earlier.

I'd been arguing my case to Ross, explaining how Diego had cold-cocked me when I realized that I no longer had his attention.

I turned around to see what he was looking at, and there was my Alex, standing toe to toe with Irene.

Not that Irene is scary or anything like that, but she certainly has the size advantage.

I loved that Alex was never afraid of anyone. She never let her small stature deter her from standing up for herself. Or for me.

"What the hell is she doing?" Ross had asked. "Who is that with her?"

"It's Irene Weston," I told him. "The ex-wife of our dead banker."

"Why does it look like high noon at the OK-Corral in there?"

"I…um…I don't…"

"Save it," he had interrupted. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

So I'd stayed. For a full minute. And then I had to follow.

Ross had left the door to the conference room open, so I could hear Alex as I came out of his office.

"…or is there a fourth brother that you're sleeping with, too?"

Ouch. Went for the low-blow there, huh Alex? And from the look on her face, she wasn't playing any games. She wasn't just working a suspect to see if she could get a confession. She was truly pissed off.

At that moment, Irene had made her move.

I'd picked up the pace a little and made it to the conference room as Ross was trying to work himself between the two women.

_You'd better get out of there, Sir_, I'd thought.

I saw Alex clenching her fist. All she needed was for Irene to loosen her grip on her hair.

"Irene!" I'd shouted. That did it. Like a flash, Alex shifted her weight to one side and let the uppercut fly. Right into Ross' face.

He crumpled to the floor right in front of me and I had to step over him so that I could grab Irene.

I wasn't gentle about it.

I tossed her against the table and roughly cuffed her hands behind her and then sent her off with another officer. I didn't say a word to her other than to read her rights.

Who was that woman? When we'd dated, she'd been an easy-going, likeable woman. She was career-driven and intelligent…something had happened to change her dramatically.

I needed to find out what it was.

"Hey, she came after me first," Alex was saying.

"I know. I saw. But it's still probably not a good idea. Besides, she's going to be hostile towards you. She won't open up with you in the room."

She sighed heavily and sat back in her chair.

"I know you're right. I just don't trust her. I don't like not knowing what her motive is for dragging you into this," she admitted.

And then she leaned forward across the desk and lowered her voice. "And I really don't like that she seems to think that you're still interested."

"I didn't…"

"I know you didn't do anything. Women like that don't need you to do anything. It's just…I'm guess I'm jealous, that's all."

I never thought for a second that she would ever admit that out loud, and I wasn't sure how to respond.

"You know there's nothing to be jealous of. She's not what I want, you are. And honestly, even if I weren't with you, I wouldn't be with her. It's not like I feel I'm making any kind of sacrifice here."

She gave me a slow smile that was surely not meant to be sexy but it absolutely was. I guess that was the right thing to say.

"Okay. You go talk to her alone."

"I can take her into an interrogation room. That way you can see and hear everything."

"No. I may not trust her, but I do trust you. So let's get it over with and then get the hell out of here."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Irene was alone in the holding cell, so I let myself in and sat down on the cot across from her. We could just talk in here.

She looked up at me and tossed her hair back in her patented move before plastering on a smile.

"Bobby Goren. A married man. I never thought I'd see the day. When I made the suggestion of commitment, you took off running for the hills."

"Yeah, well, you're not Alex."

It probably wasn't a very nice thing to say, but I wasn't exactly in the mood to be nice.

"Ah. _Alex_," she stated. Then she huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure she loves me right about now."

"Can you blame her? I'm not exactly fond of you right now either."

"You used to be," she replied coyly. "Remember when we used to…"

"Cut the crap, Irene," I interrupted. "I'm not here to take a stroll down memory lane."

"Are you sure? Because I would think after spending some time with _her_ that maybe you'd be ready to come back to a real woman."

She crossed the cell and stood in front of me, much too close for my liking. Then she ran her hand up my arm and let it rest on my shoulder. "I think maybe you forgot what a real woman feels like. I haven't forgotten what _you_ feel like."

Disgusted and annoyed, I pushed her hand away and stood up. I could see why Alex hadn't wanted me to come in here. She'd read Irene perfectly, but I wasn't ready to give up. I just needed her to crack.

"Really? Are you sure it's me that you're remembering? Or is it Carlos? Or Antonio? Or Diego?"

"Okay, stop."

"Stop what? Stop reminding you that you're sleeping with all three brothers at the same time? Stop reminding you that you've turned into a liar and a manipulator? Not to mention an adulterer. And now you're trying to talk me into bed? Which, by the way, is never going to happen."

"What exactly is it that you see in her?"

"Everything," I replied simply.

She stared at me, waiting to see if I would elaborate, but I stood my ground with my arms folded in front of my chest.

I remained silent and held her gaze, silently daring her to say another word about Alex.

After several moments, she returned to the cot she'd been originally sitting on and lowered herself slowly, letting out a long sigh.

I watched as her entire demeanor transformed before my eyes.

"Bobby, I'm sorry."

"For what, exactly?"

Even though I wanted to hear what she had to say, I wasn't going to make this easy on her.

I could forgive her for the things she'd done to me. I was used to being treated badly. It was the story of my life until Alex came along.

But I would never forgive her for making Alex feel inferior. Making her feel threatened and insecure about my love. It had been a conscious, calculating effort to put doubt in Alex's mind, and that was unpardonable.

As for her lies about Dylan…there was more to that. I knew there had to be. That was what I needed to find out.

"I'm sorry for the things I said. For how I acted just now. And for lying to you about Dylan," she said.

"Tell me why you did it."

"I…I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"It's not that simple," she insisted. I looked at her as she put her head down in her hands. I felt a little bit sorry for her. I couldn't help it.

"What are you mixed up in?" I asked her quietly. "I can't understand why you would lie about something like that. Did you think I wouldn't find out the truth?"

"I thought…that…that you would believe me. And I didn't know you were married," she added.

"Yeah, you didn't account for Alex, did you?" I asked, unable to keep the pride out of my voice. "Would it have changed things if you knew? Or would you have still told me that he was mine?"

"I needed him to have a father."

"He had a father. You said that Carlos was staying involved. You were trying to pass Dylan off on me within hours of his death. If it was just about him having a father, then what was your hurry?"

"I can't explain it. I needed to have a name. Someone to claim him."

_Someone to claim him_? What did she mean by that? I let that thought roll around in my head while I pressed forward.

"We haven't been together in nearly eleven years. Surely there's someone better suited to be his father than me. Who is his real father?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not? Is he married?"

"Yes, but that's not why. He wasn't married when we conceived Dylan."

"Is he a criminal?" It was the only other thing I could think of.

"No…yes…maybe."

"I can help you," I told her. "But you have to tell me the truth."

"Why would you help me now?" she asked, once again raising her head to look at me. Tears mixed with mascara streaked her cheeks and her nose was red. "After what I've put you through today?"

"Because I know there's more to this. Someone or something is making you act this way. I just need to know what it is."

"Just go away, Bobby," she said sadly. "I'm sorry I brought you into this. And please tell your wife that I'm sorry, too. I acted…horribly toward her. I was reacting out of fear, I think. She kept asking me questions, and I was afraid that she would find out the truth."

"This isn't going to go away. You're in real trouble here. Even if Alex decides to drop the assault charges, Carlos was murdered. We're looking into Antonio, Diego, you…"

"What if I say that I did it?"

"Did you?"

"If I say that I did…can you just leave it alone?"

"Not if you're confessing to cover up someone else's crime. You know me better than that."

"I think I'm done talking. I want to call my lawyer."

"Irene…"

"Detective Goren," she said firmly. "I'm done talking. Please arrange for me to make my phone call."

I got up and shook my head.

"You know I can help you. You don't have to do this."

"You're a great guy, Bobby. I'm sorry I let you get away."

I paused at the cell door. She was being sincere now, as opposed to her shameless ploy when I'd first entered the cell. This had been exactly what Alex was afraid of, that Irene truly believed we could still be something together.

I turned around to look her in the eye.

"It would've ended when I met Alex anyway," I told her meaningfully. "Once I met her, I never gave anyone else more than a passing thought."

She nodded in understanding.

"So you're happy?"

"You have no idea."

I left the holding cell and found Alex still sitting at her desk.

A wave of love passed through me just at the sight of her. I wondered idly if the feeling would lessen as time went by, but I didn't think that it would. It had been raging strong for so many years now that it was just a part of me.

"How'd it go?" she asked casually. I knew better. She'd been waiting on pins and needles for me to return.

"Let's get out of here," I said.

"I just got the medical records," she told me, indicating the paperwork spread across her desk. "And the phone records are under here somewhere."

"Bring them all. We'll meet Logan and Carolyn and the four of us can look through this stuff over dinner."

I helped her cram the papers into her briefcase and then I led the way out of the squad room.

"So you're going to keep me in suspense?" she asked as we got onto the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, I pulled her into my arms.

"I love you," I said quietly.

"Is that a precursor to giving me bad news?" she asked, although she relaxed against me, wrapping her arms around my waist underneath my suit jacket.

"It's just the one thought that's always foremost in my mind. I'm so lucky to have you."

"Let's not get into a pissing contest about who's the lucky one here," she murmured into my chest. Only Alex could say something like that and have it seem romantic.

I broke into a grin.

The whole conversation with Irene had made me tense and uncomfortable, and I had been desperately wishing that Alex was by my side.

But now that I was back with her, I was finally able to relax.

We stepped apart just as the elevator doors opened up in the parking garage. Alex typed in a text message to Logan as we headed for the SUV.

"So did she proposition you?" she asked once we were out on the road.

"Yeah. You were right about that," I admitted. "I think it was a means to an end though."

"To what end?"

"That I still don't know," I said. "She wants to confess to killing Carlos. She ended our conversation by insisting on a lawyer."

"She didn't kill him," Alex replied. I was glad that she was remaining fairly impartial.

I don't know that I would be able to do the same if the situation were reversed.

Would I even care, if an ex-boyfriend of Alex's wanted to confess to murder, whether he was telling the truth or not?

Or would I just happily lock him up and throw away the key?

"Not that it wouldn't thrill me to have her in prison," she added, and I chuckled at the similarity of our thoughts.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. I was just…thinking something eerily parallel."

She gave me a knowing nod, and flashed me that quick little grin of hers that always stirred up my libido.

"Did she tell you the name of the boy's father?"

"She said she can't say. I asked if he was married and she said yes, but that he hadn't been when the child was conceived so that part didn't worry her. I asked if he was a criminal and she seemed unsure how to answer."

"You think the boy's father is our real killer, and that she's trying to cover for him?"

"Maybe. But why? Why would she sacrifice herself like that?" I wondered out loud.

"She's smart. Maybe she thinks a jury will never convict her," she replied as she found a parking space near McNally's. We got out of the SUV and continued our conversation as we walked hand-in-hand toward the bar.

"But if she confesses…"

"She confesses and then she recants," Alex countered. "She says she was under extreme duress because her ex-boyfriend was grilling her…but by now the jury's already been selected, so the prosecution pushes forward on limited evidence, and…"

"And they come back with an acquittal. And reasonable doubt remains for anyone subsequently tried for the same murder."

"It's a hell of a risk to take. I wouldn't throw myself at the mercy of a jury."

"Not even for me?" I teased as I held the door open for her. But instead of going in, she stopped next to me and gave me a blatantly predatory look.

"For you, I would do anything."

And then she reached up and kissed me. I thought it would be a quick one, but she deepened it so much that I moved us aside and let the door close again.

She pushed herself closer against me and I couldn't stop my body's instant response to her proximity.

I wrapped my arms tighter around her, increasing the pressure of her hips against mine. She moaned softly and rose up on her toes as she shoved her fingers into my hair.

"Why don't you get a room?" was the rude comment that barely penetrated my brain. But since I knew the voice, I forced myself to pull away.

"Why don't you mind your own damn business?" Alex retorted, although she said it with a smile on her face.

She turned around to greet Mike and Carolyn, but I kept her positioned in front of me until I could get a handle on things.

_Damn, how did the woman always get me so worked up in such a short amount of time?_

"So, you guys want to go in, or are you just going to stand out here all night?" Mike asked.

"I'm good staying out here," I replied.

"I bet you are. Good to see you," he said, shaking my hand.

Since my body had settled down, I let go of Alex so that she could give Logan a hug while I did the same to Carolyn.

I'd missed these guys. It felt like a long time, even though it had been just a little over a week since we'd seen them last.

We went on into the bar and found an open table. The waitress was quick to come and take our order and then we collectively settled back to relax.

"You look like hell," Logan said, referring to my bruised and swollen jaw. "You need to quit pissing Alex off – you know she's got a nasty temper."

"Yeah, well, this one wasn't from Alex. Although you could ask Ross about Alex's temper."

"Ross? What?"

"Great, Bobby. They've been here all of two minutes and you're telling them about Ross," she complained, although I could tell it didn't bother her at all.

"You hit Ross?" Carolyn asked. "What did he do?"

"I wasn't trying to hit him. He just got in the way."

"Knocked him out cold," I added. Mike let out a loud laugh.

"I'd have paid good money to see that. What did he say?"

"I haven't seen him since then. He went to get it checked out. I'm sure Liz is taking care of him."

"So who were you trying to hit?" Carolyn asked.

"It was…um…" Alex began, and then she turned to look at me.

_We can tell them or not_, she said silently.

I gave her a little nod and reached for her hand under the table as she turned back to Mike and Carolyn.

"Okay, well, let me start at the beginning."

TBC...

Do I even have to say it? ON MONDAY... :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Logan POV**

* * *

After hearing about the day that the Gorens had experienced, I was not surprised that Alex had snapped at me this morning.

In fact, she deserved to have done a whole lot worse. Maybe I'd see if she wanted to go to the gym with me, go a few rounds. She worked out with Goren most of the time, but I had a feeling that she wouldn't take out her frustration on him. He was already taking enough of this thing on himself.

I didn't want to think about how I would feel to be in that same situation. It wasn't like it was too farfetched. It's pretty much always a possibility unless you've lived a life of celibacy.

And I hadn't.

Lived a life of celibacy, that is.

I had no doubt that I had been a damn sight more licentious than Goren.

And that wasn't something I would ever brag about. In fact, now I wished that I hadn't been like that.

But you can't change the past, only the future. Carolyn reminded me of that on a daily basis.

She did a lot of things for me on a daily basis. It was hard to believe that I'd survived the first forty-some years of my life without her, but now that I _did_ have her, I never wanted to be alone again. I never wanted to be _without her_ again.

I couldn't help but be reminded that only a little less than a year ago, we'd had a pregnancy scare. _We could have a kid right now_. How much would that have changed us?

Too much to quantify.

"You're not going to believe this," Alex said. She held copies of medical documents in her hand.

We were still sitting in the booth at McNally's. We'd finished dinner a little while ago. We had paperwork spread across the table and we were on our third round of beers.

"What is it?" I asked.

"They both have it."

"Antonio and Diego?" Carolyn questioned while Bobby simultaneously asked, "Marfan's?"

"Yes on both counts."

"That's a little unusual isn't it?" I asked.

"Not really, no," Carolyn replied. "If one parent has it, then there's a fifty-fifty chance of it getting passed on to their offspring. Obviously one of the Medina parents had it. Two kids got it, and one kid didn't."

"Are they both A-positive?" Goren inquired.

"Uh huh. Great. That means either one of them could be Dylan's father."

"Or neither of them," I countered. "It doesn't have to be one of them."

"So you think that there was another man who slept with Irene and is A-positive and has Marfan's syndrome?" Alex posed with a quirk of her eyebrow.

Boy, she had a way of stating facts that just cut through all of the bullshit.

I sat back and grinned at her.

"Okay. Good point," I conceded.

Although even the fact that we had _two_ possibilities seemed like one too many.

"What about the phone records?" Carolyn asked as she sifted through the paperwork. "You said that Irene got two calls, right?"

"That's right. One about midnight, and one around two-thirty."

"The phone call that Irene received at two-thirty a.m. was from Carlos," I stated, having found the desired report.

"Carlos?" Goren questioned. "I had money on Diego."

"Me, too," Alex agreed.

"You think Diego is your killer?" I asked. "What would be his motive?"

"Well, for starters, he's in love with Irene," Alex said. "The proof of that is all over Bobby's face."

"Yeah, he was pretty ticked off when I suggested that Antonio was with her," Bobby remarked.

"She's having sex with both brothers of her ex-husband…that's a murder waiting to happen," Carolyn remarked.

"I think you're right," I said. "There's a call from Irene to Diego two hours after the call from Carlos to Irene."

"What are you thinking?" Alex asked me.

"What if whatever she and Carlos talked about made her upset? So she called Diego to tell him about it. Since he's in love with her, he goes off to confront Carlos and protect Irene. We know he's a hothead. Maybe it was an accident."

"He accidentally rammed him through a double-pane window?" Carolyn questioned. "I don't know, Mike."

"Hey, a guy standing up for his woman can have super-human strength. Right Goren?"

"That's true," he mumbled, although I could tell his brain was off and running somewhere else. "What time was that call from Irene to Diego?"

"Four-thirty."

"Carlos was killed about that time. There's no way that she called Diego at four-thirty and then he went to Thirty-Second Street, up forty floors, and killed Carlos."

"And then got back home by five to be notified by Ross. And to have the wherewithal to ask for Detective Goren of Major Case," Alex added.

"Yeah, and why would he do that?" I asked. "He would've been better off to let any homicide detective handle it."

"He wanted Bobby because he would be emotionally involved," Carolyn suggested.

"How long was the call?" Goren asked, sticking with the murder outline rather than the theory for his involvement.

"Seven minutes. Too long for voice mail."

"So that takes us back to Antonio," Alex suggested. "Unless there was someone else at Diego's house who took the call."

"Antonio's only twenty-five," Carolyn pointed out. "He would've been fifteen when Dylan was conceived. I'd say that takes him out of the running."

"Does it?" I asked. "What were you doing at fifteen, Goren?"

"I wasn't having sex with thirty-year-old women," he countered. Then he looked at Alex and added, "I wasn't having sex with _anyone_ when I was fifteen."

I decided to let the topic drop. We were getting into areas that I would rather not discuss. I felt Carolyn's hand squeeze my thigh and I set my hand down on top of hers.

"So are we sure that identifying the father is synonymous with identifying the killer? I mean, maybe everybody is circling the wagons right now to contain family secrets. Maybe they're afraid that the investigation into Carlos' death would shed some light on things they'd rather have left in the dark. But that doesn't mean that one of them is a killer," I suggested.

"Then why would Irene be willing to confess?"

"Because she's innocent and she believes in the system?" Carolyn offered. "She's sure she'll get off, and in the mean time, the investigation is brought to an end."

"What could be so horrible that it would be better to stand trial for murder than to let it be known?" Goren asked rhetorically.

None of us had an answer for that. Our brain storm session had brought about more questions than answers, as was usually the case in the beginning of an investigation.

"We're going to have to call it a night, guys," Alex said. "I'm glad you came out with us."

"What can we do to help on this?" I asked her. She got out of the booth and slipped into her coat while she waited for Goren to join her.

"I don't know yet."

"You'll call?"

"Of course."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

We got home to our new empty apartment not a moment too soon. I'd had sexual tension building in me for the better part of the day, and I was tired of waiting.

But I wanted to play a little bit first. Because that wasn't really like waiting. It was more like extended foreplay.

"Get comfortable. I'm going to get some ice packs," I told Bobby once he'd locked up behind us.

He went down the hall to the bedroom, shedding his suit as he went. I watched him for a moment, and then went into the kitchen and filled a couple of baggies with ice.

"It actually feels a lot better," he told me as he came into the kitchen.

He was dressed in gray NYPD sweatpants and a dark blue t-shirt. He looked sexy as hell, although I'd come to the conclusion that the man could look sexy in a potato sack.

I set the baggies on the counter and stepped out of my shoes, and then unhooked my pants and let them fall to the floor.

"Well, we don't want it to swell up over night," I replied casually.

I hadn't intended it, but somehow using the phrase _swell up_ at the same time I was taking off my pants managed to come across as fairly suggestive.

At least, that's what I was guessing considering the look on Bobby's face.

I definitely had his complete attention, so I took my time removing my blouse, slowly sliding each button through its hole. I let the fabric pull apart gradually until it finally slipped down my arms onto the floor.

He continued to watch me intently. I loved the way he seemed mesmerized by me at times like this. He always made me feel so beautiful.

And then my mind betrayed me.

_Had he thought that Irene still looked beautiful_, I wondered.

I didn't want to be thinking of her, but I couldn't help myself. My mind had been in dark places all day, thinking about the two of them together…It was like it was on a continuous loop in my head and I couldn't make it stop.

"Alex," he said quietly, bringing my focus back to the present. "What is it?"

My first reaction was to keep my mouth shut. Why should I shove my insecurities onto him?

But that wasn't fair. I expected him to tell me everything and yet I got to pick and choose? No, I wasn't going to be like that.

"I'm just…torturing myself," I admitted.

"About what?" he asked, although I knew he knew. He picked me up and set me on the island counter.

"You wouldn't have to do that if I were taller," I mumbled.

The statement was ostensibly a non-sequitur but at the same time, it was the root of everything.

_If I were tall with dark eyes and dark hair like a certain annoyingly gorgeous former girlfriend…_

Not to mention the fact that all day men had been singing her sexual praises.

How was I supposed to compete with that? Bobby had admitted to thinking back about the times he'd been with her. And yeah, he'd been doing it to confirm the facts, but still…were those images in his head now? Would he be thinking about her while he was with me? I knew he would never do it intentionally, but I didn't want him to do it at all.

He was waiting patiently for me to talk. I loved that about him. Here I was, barely dressed and sitting on the counter with my legs around him, and yet he wasn't advancing things along because he knew I needed to talk first.

Most men would have stripped down, proceeded to have a completely one-sided sexual experience, and then tried desperately to pretend I hadn't said anything at all.

Bobby was definitely not most men.

I closed my eyes and pulled him closer, laying my head on his shoulder. His hands stroked my back in silent support.

"I can picture the two of you in my head," I said at last. "It's not your fault. But I can't turn my brain off."

"That's understandable," he replied softly. "The suggestion was thrown at you all day long. I'd be surprised if it hadn't started you thinking."

"But did it start _you_ thinking?"

He pulled back a little so that I had to look at him.

"You think I wish I were still with her?"

"No, not really. I'm just…I guess I'm wondering if you're going to be thinking about her."

"Now why in the world," he began before he leaned down and kissed my shoulder. "Would I be thinking of anyone else, when I'm with you?"

He continued to press kisses against my shoulder, down my arm, my throat – everywhere that skin was exposed. It made me want to expose more.

"I wanted you for so long…dreamed about you for _so long_…" he continued, his voice now a husky growl. "How many men can say they get to make love to their fantasy woman?"

His words sent a shot of arousal through me that had me pulling him closer, but he kept talking.

"If today had happened…if we'd run into her, but yet you and I weren't together, tonight I would still be dreaming about you. You are so beautiful…so sexy…there's never been anyone, ever, who could turn me on with just a look. Until you."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, suddenly feeling terrible for seeking out his reassurance. His day had been hell, too. More so than mine, even. And yet I was the one falling apart. How backwards was that?

He didn't reply, but instead stood back and picked up one of the baggies of ice from the counter next to me.

"Remember that day," he began with a mischievous smile. "When you came over and insisted on me using an ice pack?"

"I remember," I replied. I grinned at the memory of walking into the living room and catching Bobby with his hand down his pants.

"You really caught me by surprise that day. Your concern for my…injured area…was the catalyst for even more vivid dreams than usual."

He opened the baggie and pulled out an ice cube.

"Well, I didn't want you to sustain any damage before I got the chance to try it out," I admitted. I could say that now, although I remembered how mortified I'd been at the time.

"Is that what you were thinking?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah, you didn't know that? I was so afraid my motive was transparent."

"I hoped, maybe. But I never really thought it was a possibility."

"So the great Bobby Goren was wrong," I teased. "I wanted to place that ice pack into position myself. I wanted to assess the damage to see if there was anything I could do to stop the swelling."

"Believe me, there was some serious swelling going on that had nothing to do with getting kicked," he joked back.

And then for a moment, we just looked at one another, each of us remembering that day. The sexual tension, the nervousness, the sheer excitement of pushing the envelope…it was almost like remembering a first date.

He stood there watching me, with the ice cube still in his hand. I realized then that he was waiting for me. I had been the one who needed to talk before moving things forward and so the next move would have to be mine.

I was amazed by how easily he had erased my fears. The relentless circuit in my head had stopped. In fact, it was gone for the moment. It may come back at some point, but I would deal with it then.

I reached for the hem of his shirt and quickly pulled it over his head.

Having been given the green light, he stepped closer once again. He took the ice cube and ran it across my lips before slowly dragging it down my throat. My breath caught as I waited in anticipation for what he would do next.

He leaned in close, letting his breath run over the icy trail. I felt goose bumps spring up along my skin and yet I was simultaneously on fire.

"I'm glad you're not taller," he murmured. "You're the perfect height. You're the perfect everything."

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We left the apartment at seven-thirty. We had a lot to do, considering our latest findings.

We needed to re-interview Antonio and Diego.

We also needed to question Irene about the necklace. For some reason, that detail had escaped both of us during the prior day's discussions with her.

We needed to canvass Irene's neighborhood to see if anyone had noticed Antonio coming or going.

The security log from Carlos' office had not shown any visitors. To me, that said that it was one of the brothers because Carlos could've gotten normal security measures waived for family memebers.

Antonio had not reacted at all to the news of Carlos' death. But was it just an act? He didn't seem bright enough to be able to pull that off, but maybe that part was an act, too.

And Diego…he had seemed more upset by the news that Irene was providing Antonio with an alibi than by the death itself.

The Medina parents were both dead, and there wasn't any additional family, so we would have to talk to friends and co-workers to attempt to gain insight into both of the brothers.

I wished that we could bring Mike and Carolyn in on this. We had a lot of information to cover, and I just didn't trust anyone else. But I knew that wouldn't fly with Ross, and I also knew that they had their own business to run.

So instead, Alex and I got started with Diego. He had posted bond last night, so this morning he was back at the fire house.

Alex tossed her jacket back so that it exposed her gun. She held her hand on the butt as we approached Diego. I decided to let her be the badass. She was good at it.

"Diego, we need to talk with you," she began. "And if you try anything, I'll shoot first and ask questions later."

"Yeah, man, I'm sorry about that. I let my temper get the best of me."

"Uh huh. Did your temper get the best of you when you went to Carlos' office yesterday morning?" Alex asked.

"I didn't go to his office yesterday. I haven't been by there in a few weeks."

"Why did Irene call you at four-thirty?"

"I didn't know that she did."

"The call lasted seven minutes. Who else lives in your apartment?"

"It's just me."

"So either you talked to her, or she left the longest voice mail message ever."

"Okay, I talked to her," he admitted. I bit back a smirk at how easily he changed his story. Maybe Diego was the one lacking in the brains department.

"Why did she call you?" Alex asked again.

"She was upset."

"About…"

"I never really got it out of her."

"She called you. Upset. But she wouldn't say why? Then what was the point?"

"The point of what?"

Alex looked at me and rolled her eyes.

"The point of her calling you," she said slowly. "Was she crying?"

"No."

"Was she yelling?"

"No."

"Please recount the conversation for us."

"She asked me if I'd talked to Antonio lately. I said no. I asked her why she wanted to know and she said it wasn't my business. Then she asked me if I'd seen Carlos. Again, I said no. I hadn't seen either of them because I was home all night."

"Then why did you tell us yesterday that you were with Irene?"

"When I found out that Carlos was dead, I figured that she had done it. I was trying to protect her."

"And that's why you asked for me?" I asked, finally jumping into the conversation.

"Yeah. She always talked about how much you used to love her and since you were Dylan's father, then I figured you would help her."

I looked at Alex after he made that ridiculous statement about me being in love with Irene but she didn't visibly react.

"Okay. So you were home, alone. You got the call from Irene at four-thirty. Then you got the call from Captain Ross at shortly after five. You asked him to have Detective Goren work the case. That's the extent of your knowledge?" she clarified.

"Yes."

"Tell me this. Have you ever had sex with Irene?" Alex asked.

"Yes," he admitted. He seemed pretty proud of that fact. "We've been together for years now."

"How many years? Ten? Eleven?"

"Why? You think I'm Dylan's father?"

"Are you?"

"You are," he insisted, pointing his finger at me.

"No, see that's the thing. Detective Goren is not the boy's father," Alex said calmly. "So is it a possibility that it's you?"

"I don't know. I need to talk to Irene."

"It's a pretty simple question. I'm not asking for facts. I'm asking for possibility."

"Yeah, it's possible," he said finally.

"One more thing. Have you ever seen this necklace?" she asked him, showing a picture of the silver chain taken from Carlos' dead hand.

"Yeah, sure. It's Irene's."

We left Diego and went to find Antonio.

"I believe him," Alex said as she drove toward the Nature Center.

"Me, too. You know, we need to get a court-ordered paternity test to sort this mess out."

"We can't prove that it has anything to do with the murder, though. Especially since Carlos' office was trashed. If it was personal, why do that?"

"To make it look _not_ personal."

Antonio wasn't at work. We wasted too much precious time interviewing his co-workers and finding out nothing. They all liked him. He was a helpful guy, dependable, kind of a ladies' man but not in a bad way…basically the standard bullshit provided by people who really knew nothing about him.

So we left the Nature Center and tracked him down at home. His wife answered the door.

"Can I help you?"

She looked barely out of high school, and she was still in her pajamas despite the fact that it was mid-afternoon. Revealing pajamas, and she made no effort to cover herself.

"We're detectives with the NYPD. We're looking for Antonio," Alex told her.

"Come on in," she replied, flinging the door open and stepping back. I did my best to look at anything other than her.

"We can give you a minute to get dressed," Alex said. The woman looked down at herself and then back at us. She shrugged indifferently before heading off down the hall.

"Hey Tony!" she yelled. "Cops are here!"

"I can't imagine why he would cheat," Alex whispered to me.

"He still shouldn't cheat. If he's not happy, he should just leave."

"It's Goren and Goren," Antonio said with a smirk as he came into the foyer. He was barely dressed as well, wearing only a pair of boxers. "What can I do for you?"

"We need to talk to you again about the early hours of yesterday morning," Alex said, keeping her voice low since his wife was still in the house somewhere. We didn't condone the infidelity, and if it needed to come out to help the case, then it would come out. But there was no need to blurt it out just because we could.

"I told you where I was."

"You never left there," I confirmed.

"No. It was a little after midnight when I got there. I left at five-something. I don't know exactly what time."

"Did you hear her on the phone at four-thirty?" Alex asked him.

"What? No. She didn't make a call."

"Actually, she did make a call. So you didn't hear her?"

He looked slightly confused, but he just shook his head.

"When was the last time you spoke with Diego?"

"A while ago. I'm not sure."

"Did you know about Carlos before we came to see you yesterday?"

"No."

"What was Irene's relationship with him?"

"They were friends."

"What did they disagree about?"

"Nothing. They got along great."

"Really? Because you know she confessed to killing him. So I'm thinking that maybe you were asleep that whole time and didn't know she'd left the house."

"I wasn't asleep!" he shouted. "Ask her! She says she ain't never had it so good as she has it with me!"

"Okay, so after two minutes of giving her the best she ever had, then you went to sleep," Alex said mockingly. "That's why you didn't hear her on the phone. So she slipped out, killed Carlos, came back and called Diego to tell him all about it."

"Irene would never kill Carlos."

"Then why would she say she did it?"

"To protect me. I did it."

Alex and I looked at each other. Great, now we had two confessions for the same crime.

And I didn't think either one of them had done it.

We took Antonio into custody. We didn't really have much of a choice.

"That's just perfect," Ross grumbled at us after we finished processing Antonio. "Now there's reasonable doubt all the way around."

As if we didn't already realize that, I thought. I wondered if maybe Alex would consider hitting him on the other jaw just to get him to shut up.

"So what's your plan?"

"We're going to talk to Irene," Alex said. "We need to ask her about the necklace. It must hold some sort of significance if Carlos was still holding onto it. Maybe we can get her to recant. If she confessed to protect Antonio, then once she finds out that he confessed there will be no reason for her to stick with her story."

"Unless he's protecting someone else, too," Ross countered. "Or they're protecting each other."

"It's possible," I agreed.

"Either way, it'll have to wait until tomorrow. She's in arraignment right now on the assault charges."

"I told you that I wasn't going to press charges," Alex argued. I was only mildly surprised to hear that. We rarely pushed the issue when things got heated during interrogations.

"I'm pressing charges," Ross countered. "So she's in court this afternoon. You can catch her in the morning."

We left his office and went back to our desks. It was still a little early for quitting time, but I was ready.

Alex's phone buzzed and she looked at it quickly before coming around to my side of the desks.

"Carolyn wants to meet me for drinks. Do you mind?"

"Are you asking my permission?" I teased. I couldn't help it.

"I'm asking if you mind. There's a difference," she replied with a grin.

"I don't mind."

"Okay. I'm going to head out then. I'll see you at home?"

It was kind of strange to see her walk out without me. I'd watched her walk away for years, but since we'd been together, I'd quickly gotten used to leaving with her.

But I was glad Carolyn had invited her. It would be good for her.

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

I met Alex at a hole-in-the-wall bar that had no atmosphere but killer Kamikazes.

And it was within walking distance of both of our homes, so we wouldn't have to worry about getting home after taking in excess liquor.

It was all part of my grand plan. I wasn't sure if she would talk to me, so I figured throwing vodka into the mix would help tip the scale in my favor.

"So how are you doing with all of this?"

"Well, it's coming along I guess. Antonio confessed today, although we're not sure if he…"

"Alex," I interrupted.

"What?"

"As much as I would love to hear about the case, what I'm asking you is how are _you_ doing with all of this?"

I could literally see her working to formulate a lie. Then she stopped herself, took a long drink of the just-delivered Kamikaze, and sat back in the stool.

"It's been…difficult," she admitted.

I was glad that she was going to open up.

We hadn't done nearly enough stuff together, just the two of us, to cultivate the type of female bonding relationship that called for the sharing of secrets.

But we should have.

We should have been working on that aspect because it's important to be able to have someone to share with who is not your spouse.

It's vital to have a trustworthy confidante of the same sex so that you can let loose whatever is on your mind.

I knew that and yet I'd never cared much about it. I never felt like I needed it. If I wanted to bitch about Mike, I would bitch _to_ Mike. He was a good listener and he was my best friend.

But still…no matter how much you love someone, when you live with that person, there are going to be things that get on your nerves. Things that you completely understand and wouldn't change for the world, but get on your nerves nonetheless.

That's when it's nice to talk to someone else who is wearing similar shoes.

And Alex and I were definitely sporting eerily comparable footwear.

Besides, Mike and Bobby did the whole male-bonding thing on a fairly regular basis. There was no reason for Alex and me not to do the same.

"Last night was…I don't know," she said. Talking wasn't going to come easy. She tossed back the rest of her first drink and ordered a second.

"What does she look like?"

"She's disgustingly beautiful," she told me. I was glad she didn't pretend not to know who I meant.

"You remember Rhonda Hagen, don't you?"

"Yeah. The Walter Raleigh murder. She's still on the run."

"I was with Mike back then," I said.

"You were?" she asked in surprise. "Oh! You were the one who followed her that day!"

"Uh huh," I said with a nod. I couldn't stop the smile. "I've got to admit, I was a little jealous."

I didn't tell her about following Rhonda into the building. I had done it so that I could name-drop, and if I told Alex that, then I'd have to say why that mattered, and I wasn't going to share Mike's secrets. It was one thing to tell mine, but I wasn't about to break his confidence by telling something that he had shared with me.

"I can't imagine you having self-confidence issues," she said quietly as she picked up her drink again. "Mike thinks you walk on water. Anyone can see that."

"You mean the way everyone sees how much Bobby adores you?"

"I know he does," she admitted. "I know he loves me. I just really hated seeing that woman, knowing that she'd been with him. And then of course, every man we interviewed had to refer to her prowess in bed."

"Ouch," I commiserated. "But really, Alex, if she was so damn good then why did Bobby leave her?"

"He's not that shallow. He wouldn't stay with someone just for the sex. I mean…I didn't mean…shit, I'm sorry."

"Why? Because that was Mike's m.o.? That's okay. It was. That was why I had so much trouble in the beginning. I was so in love with him, but I was afraid that it was just about sex for him."

"And I'm afraid of the opposite," she said, shaking her head. "I know he loves me but I'm afraid the sex isn't good enough."

I ordered us another round and then turned to look at her.

"Are you really afraid of that? Or did you just start thinking that when the ex came onto the scene?"

She didn't answer right away, but instead started working on her third drink.

"I've always been a little unsure. We danced around each other for so long before we did anything about it. Sometimes I wonder if maybe he just decided that I was the best he was going to find."

"Think about that," I insisted. "Think about everything the two of you have been through together. Think of how he treats you, and how he looks at you…and then tell me that you honestly think he's settling."

I watched the emotions play across her face while she did as I asked. I liked that about Alex. If you asked her to think about something, she actually did.

"She really threw me for a loop, didn't she?" she admitted after a moment or two. She smiled at me and finished off another drink. We were definitely going to be walking home tonight.

"It happens. Rhonda had my insecurities running rampant. Ex-girlfriends can do that. But they're usually exes for a reason."

"Thanks, Carolyn. I needed this. I mean, I told Bobby how I felt, but it helps hearing it from an impartial party."

"I bet he came up with something insanely romantic though, didn't he?" I asked with a smile.

"Well, yeah," she admitted. "He's pretty good with words."

"I would imagine he's pretty good with everything," I told her in a conspiratorial tone. She laughed out loud, which was what I had been going for.

"Oh, no. I'm not sharing sex stories," she said, still chuckling. "But yeah. I'd say he's pretty damn good."

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Alex POV**

* * *

The time with Carolyn had been very therapeutic. She seemed to know just the right things to say to get me to reach my own conclusions.

And she was right about that bar. The Kamikazes were to die for.

Of course, when six a.m. rolled around, I was no longer feeling the love for those especially toxic drinks.

My groan must have alerted Bobby that I was conscious because he came into the bedroom with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Why are you up so early?" I asked crankily.

"Well, your sister called at five."

"What?" I couldn't believe I hadn't heard the phone. "What the hell did she want at five o'clock in the morning?"

"Apparently she wants us to come to dinner tonight."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her you'd have to call her back. When you woke up," he added pointedly. "She was appropriately apologetic. I guess the shift work is really throwing off her sense of time."

"I'm sorry. I'll talk to her about that," I told him. "But that was an hour ago. You could still be in the bed."

"I couldn't go back to sleep," he admitted.

"Why not?" I asked as I sat up in the bed.

He handed me the coffee and then sat down next to me. My eyes were drawn to the dark splotch on the side of his neck.

_I did that, _I thought with mild embarrassment.

Last night.

I'd stumbled in through the front door to find Bobby reading the newspaper in the kitchen. The sales ads, actually. He'd been looking for furniture.

Something about the domesticity of it that had me hot for him. Okay, maybe it was the copious amount of vodka. Or the sex talk that Carolyn and I had shamelessly delved into.

The cause was a moot point. The end result was me attacking him where he stood.

Although in my defense, he didn't put up much of a fight.

Actually, he put up no fight at all. He'd simply mumbled something about how I needed to go out with Carolyn more often and then he'd succumbed to my urging for him to get down on the floor. I think I may have torn his shirt in my eagerness to get it over his head.

I can't explain what it was, but I know what it wasn't. It wasn't tender. It wasn't gentle or easy.

It definitely wasn't making love.

But we'd done a lot of that lately.

Last night was about something else. It was about staking a claim.

As I sipped the strong brew and waited for Bobby to tell me what was on his mind, I decided that I was pretty pleased with my performance last night.

My self-doubt was kicked in the ass. _To hell with Irene_. I wasn't going to let thoughts of her bring me down.

If Bobby had wanted her, he could've had her. He didn't. He wanted me.

"I was thinking about the case. I can't figure out the phone calls."

"That kept you up?"

"It doesn't make sense. Why would Carlos call Irene in the middle of the night, hours before his death? And then why would she call Diego shortly thereafter? I was thinking at first that she didn't have anything to do with this, but now I think that maybe she does. What reason does a person have for making a phone call at two-thirty in the morning?"

"You mean making a call to someone other than a detective?" I asked wittily.

"Yeah," he said, leaning over to nudge my shoulder with his.

"Anger or love," I replied simply.

I closed my eyes and continued listening, letting the coffee work itself through me.

Damn I hated hangovers, but this one had been worth it.

"Right."

"You used to call me at that time of night," I reminded him with a tired smile. I opened my eyes again and looked up at him.

"Yes I did," he replied, returning my smile. "And it sure as hell wasn't out of anger. But I think maybe that's why Carlos was calling. We need to ask Irene what was going on between them. And why he had her necklace."

I got my act together thanks to large amounts of caffeine, some aspirin, and a banana.

We made it to work by eight.

To our surprise, Diego was waiting for us in an interrogation room.

"I was just getting ready to call," Ross stated. "He showed up ten minutes ago and demanded to talk to you two."

"Please tell me we are not going to get another confession," I muttered as I stowed my things.

"Who do you want to talk to first?" Bobby asked me. We ignored the fact that Ross was still standing there.

"Let's see what he has to say," I replied on a sigh. "And then we'll confront Irene."

"No," Ross spoke up. "No confrontations. In fact, I don't want you talking to Ms. Weston at all."

"Captain, it's fine," I insisted. "We just had a minor misunderstanding. We've cleared the air."

I took off toward the interrogation room so that I could avoid further discussion. I didn't want to get into an argument about it, but Ross was being unreasonable to try to prevent me from talking to a murder suspect simply because we'd had a minor scuffle. I hadn't heard him attempt to ban Bobby from talking to Diego, and their incident had been worse.

"You might want to steer clear, though sir. It might get rough in there," Bobby added over his shoulder as he followed me down the hall.

I bit back a chuckle.

Bobby had made a joke to the captain. It was a rare thing, but I loved it.

"You have definitely been hanging around me for too long," I teased when we stopped outside the interrogation room door.

"Uh uh," he argued. "I haven't hung around you for nearly long enough."

His sweet remark had me smiling as I entered the room. I went in first with Bobby right behind me.

As Bobby closed the door, Diego stood up.

"I want you to place me under arrest. I murdered my brother Carlos."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Alex muttered after hearing Diego's declaration.

"How'd you do it, Diego?" I asked him as I gestured for him to sit back down. He did, and then Alex and I sat across from him.

"And why did you do it?" Alex added after emitting a long-suffering sigh.

"I went to his work. I knew he had yelled at Irene earlier, and I wanted to talk to him about it."

"Yelled at her about what?"

"I…um…I'm not sure."

"Okay. So you went to his work. What time was that?"

"I got there a little after four."

"How did you know he'd yelled at Irene? She didn't call you until four-thirty. And how would you have made it back home in time to get the call?"

"That must be wrong. The call was at three-thirty, not four-thirty."

"Yeah, I don't think so," I countered. "The time is the same on yours as it is on hers."

"I can't explain it, okay? But Irene called me and told me about the fight."

"So it was a fight? Or it was just Carlos yelling at her?" Alex asked. "Because that's not the same thing."

"They were having a fight. He was being irrational. She called me to tell me about it and I went to talk to him, to let him know that he shouldn't be treating her that way."

"At four in the morning," I stated disbelievingly. I didn't think for one second that _irrational_ was a word in Diego's vocabulary. He was getting this line from someone else.

"Right. I couldn't wait. So I went. Carlos was acting like a jerk, telling me that he could talk to Irene however he wanted."

"And he can, pretty much, right?" Alex interrupted. "Who are you to get in between a married couple?"

"They were divorced!" he shouted. Alex's shot had hit its mark. He was getting hot under the collar. "He left her last year because of Dylan!"

"Because he found out that he wasn't Dylan's father."

"Right."

"If he left her, why would he be calling her in the middle of the night just to yell at her? What could have been so enraging to prompt that kind of response?" I questioned. I hoped that if I asked the same thing in enough different ways, he would eventually come up with the answer.

"It was something about Dylan, but I don't know what."

And now we had it. They had argued about Dylan. Maybe. Or maybe that was a lie, too. None of what he was saying was adding up.

"So when you got to his office, and told him not to yell at Irene, then what happened?" Alex prompted.

"Then…then I got mad, and I shoved him."

"And?"

"And…and he fell back into the window. I went after him and grabbed him by the shirt and kept slamming him against the glass, over and over."

"Until he fell through," I supplied.

"Yeah. I didn't mean to kill him. I mean, yeah, I was beating him up, but I didn't want him dead."

"What happened after he fell?"

"I got the hell out of there. I went back home, and then your captain called me a little while later."

Alex and I looked at each other and then back at Diego.

"Okay, Mr. Medina. If you'll just wait in here a little while longer, we'll come back to document your official confession."

"Okay. Thanks."

We stepped out into the hallway.

"He's going to thank us for taking his false confession?" Alex remarked.

"I think we can safely rule him out now."

Aside from the timing of the phone call, there had also been no mention of trashing the office, no mention of breaking into the safe.

"Unless he left out details on purpose," she suggested.

"You think he's that smart? To confess, but get it just slightly wrong so that in the end, it'll likely be disbelieved?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But at least now we know what Carlos' phone call to Irene was about. Dylan."

"So says Diego. I'm not sure we can believe anything that anyone says."

"Let's go talk to Irene. We'll see what she thinks about her two lovers confessing. And find out about the necklace."

We called down and made arrangements to have Irene moved into an interrogation room.

Ross was nowhere to be found, not that we were looking. We were actually hoping to avoid him, so his absence was convenient.

"Now you know if she feels threatened, she's going to take it out on you," I warned Alex as we approached the room. "She's going to say things…"

"I know. I'm fine," she assured me.

"Alex," I said, putting my hand on her arm to stop her from opening the door.

"I promise," she said. "I won't let her get to me."

We went inside and found Irene standing against the far wall. Two nights in jail had taken its toll on her.

"I already confessed," she said. "I don't want to talk to you without my lawyer."

"We just wanted to clear up a couple of facts," I told her.

"Facts like why you're one of three people who have all confessed to the same crime," Alex added.

"Who else confessed?" she asked quickly.

"Who do you think?" Alex retorted. Irene held her gaze for a moment, and then shook her head.

"It doesn't matter. I'm the one who did it," she said quietly.

"How about this," I posed. "We'll ask a few questions and if at any point you feel uncomfortable answering, then we'll go out and call your lawyer. Is that okay?"

"Fine. Whatever."

"How did you get Carlos out of the window?" Alex asked.

"I used a chair to break the window, and then I pushed him through."

"He just stood by and watched?"

"I was upset," she stated. "I was kind of throwing a tantrum. I threw papers around, made a mess of his office…and then he said something that really set me off. I picked up the chair and smashed the window. I hadn't really expected it to break," she added modestly.

"What did Carlos do then?"

"He came running at me. He snatched the chair from my hands and threw it down, and then he grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking me, yelling at me. I shoved him to get him off of me. He stumbled over the chair and fell out the window."

We were all silent. I watched Irene's face, trying to get a read. The story sounded plausible. And yet the timing of the phone call said that she was home at four-thirty. Or someone was. Was Antonio the one who had actually made the call?

"What about the necklace?" Alex asked her. She pulled the evidence photo out of the file. "This is yours, right?"

"Yes, it's mine."

"How did it end up in Carlos' hand?"

Irene's breathing rate increased, and color flooded her cheeks. Her eyes shifted from the photo, to the floor, and then back to the photo. She was trying to formulate a lie.

"I was wearing it. He must have pulled it off at some point during our fight."

"What were you fighting over?" Alex questioned.

"Child support," she said quickly.

"He was paying it?" I asked in surprise. Irene nodded.

"But you know who the real father is. Why isn't he the one paying?" Alex asked her reasonably.

"Carlos wanted to make sure that Dylan was well taken care of. He knew that the real father wouldn't. _Couldn't_," she amended.

"So if Carlos was paying because he wanted to, then what was the argument about?"

"I think I'm done. I'm ready for you to call my lawyer."

With that, she effectively shut us out. Alex and I left her in the room and went back to our desks.

"That is not the same woman who came after me two days ago," Alex said. "She looks defeated."

"Her story is authentic," I commented. I didn't want it to be true. Even though her lies had caused me and Alex both a great deal of anguish, I didn't want her to go to prison. She still had a son to raise.

"So I guess now we go see how equally authentic Antonio's story is," Alex suggested. "I have a feeling they're going to be similar."

"You think they're in on this together, don't you?"

"I do, but I have no idea why," she admitted. "They even had the man paying child support for a kid that wasn't his. Why in the world would they kill him?"

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Logan POV**

* * *

I was highly entertained by Carolyn's level of inebriation when she arrived home after her night with Alex.

Carolyn didn't normally drink a lot.

She _could_. She held her liquor well and in fact had once told me about how she used to hustle money in biker bars by challenging men to out-drink her in shots. Her challenges were almost always accepted, considering her size.

She liked to joke that the money had paid her way through college.

"You should've called me. I would've walked down to meet you," I told her when I opened the door. I'd listened to her attempt to put her key in the lock for a minute before I took pity on her and opened it from the inside.

"I'm packing," she assured me as she unstrapped her weapon and handed it to me.

I was still being vigilant about our safety considering that the whack job who'd fired through our front door was possibly still out there. I didn't like the idea of her walking alone at night.

"I know, but you're trashed," I reminded her.

"I'm fine," she said, steadying herself to look me in the eye. "You know I can take care of myself."

I did know that. Drunk or sober, she would be difficult for anyone to take down. I still wished she'd called, but I let it go. This time.

"Did you have a good time?"

"It was great," she told me with a huge grin. "Alex is a lot of fun. We should've done that a long time ago."

"I thought the point was to boost her confidence," I said as Carolyn headed for the living room.

I was actually glad that Carolyn had asked Alex to go out. It would do her good to hear things from a woman's perspective.

Carolyn had a way about her that made people just want to tell…things. Anything, everything. She had a calm presence that inspired people to open up. It had served her well as a detective, but it also made her one hell of a wife, and I knew that she would be a good friend for Alex.

Since I was now alone in the foyer, I got moving and trailed behind Carolyn, picking up apparel as I went along. She'd started off by removing her hat and her coat and her shoes, and then she'd just continued on, removing every last stitch.

So _of course_ I followed. I'd be a fool not to.

"It was," she agreed as she wandered around the living room. I thought that maybe she was looking for something, but I had no idea what. I didn't mind. "It worked."

"Is there any vodka left at Steve-O's?" I teased.

She stopped and turned to look at me with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"No, I don't think so," she replied seriously as she approached me. "Alex can really drink."

"So can Carolyn."

She smiled at me and went into my arms.

"Sorry to leave you alone tonight," she told me.

"It's okay. I stayed out of trouble. What did you girls talk about?"

"Uh uh. No," she said intensely. "We don't share girls' night talk. But…"

And then she backed away from me again to look around the living room.

"What are you looking for?" I asked finally.

"Where are our copies of those medical records?"

The woman was naked, three sheets to the wind, and thinking about work. The funny thing was that whatever her mind had latched onto was probably damn insightful.

I went to the coffee table where the documents had been lying in plain view and picked them up.

"Right here. What are you thinking?"

"There was something in Diego's file. It didn't hit me until I was walking home tonight that it might be relevant."

"What is it?" I asked as I found the right set of records and began thumbing though them.

"He's been treated for smoke inhalation several times. I remember in one set of doctor's notes a mention of him having to be on oxygen for an extended period of time due to singed nasal hairs. The date in the notes indicated that this happened around the time that Dylan would've been conceived."

"Yeah. That's not unusual. He's a firefighter."

"But did you notice the name of the treating facility?" she asked.

She stood in the center of the room with her hands on her hips. Her hair was messy from having been under her hat and her nose was red.

But she was so beautiful. I had to force my eyes away from the vision in front of me so that I can find the tidbit she to which she was referring.

I found the notes that she had mentioned and scanned down through the information.

"Sherman Oaks," I read aloud. "In _California_."

"Uh huh," she said with a grin. "You know what that means."

"I think we're going to be doing a little investigative work tomorrow to see if Diego was out fighting fires in California instead of boffing Irene in New York like he claims."

"And if he was, then that means…"

"That maybe fifteen-year-old Antonio was doing more than Alegebra."

I managed to get Carolyn into bed not long after her revelation about Diego. We wanted to get an early start on our day so that we could look into the Gorens' case before we started working on our own.

I set the alarm and crawled into bed. I'd thought that Carolyn was asleep, but she immediately snuggled up next to me. She was quiet for a few minutes but she kept up a continuous stroking across my chest that had me nearly asleep.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"I love you, too," I replied easily. "Remember that in the morning when your head is pounding but I still make you get out of the bed."

Of course, I didn't make her get up. What can I say? I'm easy.

The alarm went off at six, and she let out a moan of protest, and I reset it for seven.

Another hour wouldn't hurt.

Besides, it was warm under the covers, and she was still pressed firmly against me…why should I be in any hurry?

So the alarm went off at seven, and this time we both got up. She didn't grumble too much about the hangover although I knew it had to be a good one.

I wondered how Alex was faring this morning, and I had the urge to call just to rub it in a little.

After all, she'd taken quite a bit of pleasure in making fun of me that morning in Minnesota. There was call for a little payback.

But I waited until we got to the office. I figured that the least I could do was uncover a little bit of pertinent information for her that I could pass along after I gave her a hard time.

And after Carolyn and I scoured through more illegally-obtained information, I had some news.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

Antonio's story wasn't similar.

It was identical.

With the exception of the _whodunit_ part.

"Antonio, you've told so many lies, I'm not sure that you even know the truth anymore," I told him in frustration.

"I'm telling you the truth now."

"So it was a lie when you told us that you were at Irene's from midnight until after five," Bobby stated. I could tell that he was getting pretty aggravated, too.

"Yeah. I went over there, and Carlos called at around two-thirty. He yelled at Irene, and when she hung up, she was pretty upset. I waited until she fell asleep and then I went to see Carlos at his office."

"And you trashed his office, broke his window with a chair, and then he accidentally stumbled and fell out the window," I said, repeating what he'd just outlined to us a moment ago.

"What about the necklace?" Bobby asked.

"What? The necklace?"

"Yeah," Bobby said. He put his hands on the table and leaned in closer to Antonio. "Carlos had it in his hand. Where did he get it?"

"I…I was um…I was wearing it."

"You? Why?"

"Irene gave it to me. She wanted me to have something of hers to keep so that even when we weren't together, I would still be thinking about her."

"Oh, now isn't that sweet?" I asked drolly. _Please._ Was I really supposed to believe that these two were a couple of star-crossed lovers? She was old enough to be his mother.

"So Carlos recognized it?" Bobby clarified. "And grabbed it off of you?"

"Yeah."

"What happened when you got back to Irene's?"

"Nothing. She was still asleep. I got back into bed and didn't say a word."

"She didn't ask you where you'd been?"

"She didn't know I'd left."

"Sure she did. She made a phone call to Diego at four-thirty, so she was awake while you were gone."

"I don't know. She didn't say anything about it."

"Even after she found out that Carlos was dead?"

"She never asked me," he confirmed. And then he added, "I'm ready for my lawyer now."

We left Antonio and went to get some lunch. It was only ten-thirty, but I was hungry and my head was feeling swimmy. It didn't take much effort to talk Bobby into leaving the office.

When we got out onto the sidewalk, my cell phone rang.

"It's Logan," I told Bobby. We got out of the way of pedestrian traffic and then I answered and put it on speaker.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"I hear you were quite the popular table dancer last night."

Bobby raised his eyebrows at me, but I just closed my eyes and shook my head.

"What do you want, Logan?" I asked him. I smiled in spite of myself and was surprised to hear Bobby chuckling.

"Oh, I just wanted to see how the head was feeling this morning. You know, see if you were a big dog, or if maybe next time you need to stay on the porch."

"I'm fine, Mike," I answered, and then I mouthed _Minnesota_ to Bobby. "Any time you think you can keep up with me, bring it on."

"Nah, you're out of my league, sweetheart. Anyway, I actually do have something for you."

"You're working on our case?" Bobby asked him.

And I could read his mind. Any help gaining insight into this tangled up mess we'd found ourselves in the middle of was going to be very welcome.

"In a roundabout way. Carolyn had a drunken epiphany last night, so we checked into it a little further this morning."

"What did you find?" I asked. "Because right now we have three confessions for the same crime, so a drunken epiphany is better than nothing."

"In this case, it definitely is because it panned out," he told us. "Diego is out of the running for father of the year. He was helping fight wildfires in California from the first week of August through the second week of September in the year that Dylan was conceived. The medical records tipped us off, and now we've got credit card charges to back it up."

"Which leaves us with Antonio," I stated. "What the hell was she doing sleeping with a teenager?" I asked to no one in particular.

"I don't know, but I'm thinking that might be a good question to ask her," Bobby replied.

"Let me know," Logan said. "We're going to keep digging."

"Thanks, Mike."

I hung up with him and looked at Bobby.

"That would explain a few things," I said.

"It does and it doesn't. But one thing's for sure. If the word gets out that Antonio is the father, Irene is in danger of facing charges."

"But the statute of limitation would have run out," I argued.

"If they were in New York," he agreed. "That's something we need to find out. I'm pretty sure I read in Carlos' file somewhere that he was from Connecticut."

Thirty years from the age of eighteen – that was Connecticut's statute. Irene could be prosecuted for second degree sexual assault. That carried a sentence of up to twenty years. And Dylan could be the proof that locked her up.

But still…she was locked up now pending murder charges.

"So why would she try to stay out of jail in Connecticut for sexual assault and yet not worry about going to jail in New York for murder? Why confess?"

"She's protecting Antonio?" he suggested. "And Dylan. Something like that would probably create quite the scandal. And maybe she still believes she'll get off."

"This still doesn't give us motive, not for any of them."

"Unless we can prove that Carlos knew about it. Maybe he was going to blow the whistle."

"Why now?" I asked. "He found out that he wasn't the father eighteen months ago. Why wait so long to threaten exposure? And he wouldn't only be hurting Irene, but his son and brother as well."

"I wonder if Antonio even knows."

"You don't think he can put two and two together?"

"Probably, but I doubt he's getting four," Bobby replied.

I had my doubts about Antonio's intelligence, but it wouldn't occur to him that Irene's baby might be his? Although he had been only fifteen and she'd been a grown woman. He probably would've believed anything she said.

"Let's get some lunch, and then go shake things up."

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"Should we flip a coin?" Alex asked me once we were back in 1PP. We wanted to confront both Irene and Antonio with our latest information.

"Let's go see Antonio first. I'm curious to see how he reacts."

We made the arrangements and waited for his lawyer to show up and then the four of us met in an interrogation room.

Antonio and his lawyer sat on one side of the table while Alex sat on the other. I chose to linger in the corner of the room, trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible. I just wanted to watch.

"So. Antonio. Why didn't you tell us that Dylan is your son?" Alex said, jumping right into the deep end of the pool.

"Tell you….what? He's what?" he stammered.

His reaction was genuine.

"Dylan is your son. You had to have considered that it was a possibility."

"No, it's…no."

"No, it wasn't a possibility? You didn't have sex with Irene when you were fifteen years old?"

"Detective, how is this relevant to the pending charges?" his lawyer asked. "My client has confessed to murder. I don't see how his sexual relationship with Ms. Weston could have any bearing on this case."

"You don't see how a sexual relationship is relevant?" Alex repeated in an incredulous tone. "Ms. Weston is the ex-wife of the victim. She has also confessed to this crime. There is a potential for felony charges to be filed against her by the state of Connecticut. How is it _not_ relevant?"

The lawyer leaned over to whisper to Antonio.

"I didn't have sex with her," he answered quietly.

"Then or now?"

"Then or now."

Alex sat back in her chair and kept her eyes on Antonio. She didn't believe him. I didn't believe him either.

"So when we first interviewed you, and you bragged about being with Irene…how did you put it? _Hell yeah I spent the night with her_."

"I lied."

"Then or now?" Alex repeated.

She had a nice rhythm going with him and she was going to catch him any minute. He was starting to get defensive, and a little bit confused.

"Then."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you say that you'd been with her? Where were you really? At home with your wife?"

"No."

"No you weren't at home."

"No."

"Then you were…"

"I was at Irene's. But we weren't having sex."

"That night?"

"Right."

"But you have on other occasions."

"I…no. I've never had sex with her."

"She says that you have. So she's lying too?"

"I guess so."

"Because she's in the room next door. I'm going to go ask her as soon as I leave here."

"Well…see…it's…"

"It's you who's lying, right?"

Irene was this boy's Achilles' heel. He didn't want to disappoint her. But they clearly hadn't talked about what to say in this particular situation so he was lost.

"Yes. Okay? Yes, I did have sex with her."

"Then and now," Alex said again.

"Yes. But I'm not Dylan's father. She would've told me."

_That's what he thinks_.

"What happened after Irene got the call from Carlos? Did she go over there, or did you?"

"Or both of you?" I asked, finally deciding to get involved.

"We…um…neither of us."

"Neither of you," I repeated. "So now you're going to recant your confession."

"Right. Irene didn't do it either. She was with me all night."

So that is how – on day three of this investigation – we found ourselves back at the beginning.

"That kid doesn't know whether he's coming or going," Alex said after we'd left the interrogation room.

"He's not a kid. He's twenty-five."

"He's a kid. He's completely dependant on Irene. He isn't capable of original thought."

"He came up with the idea to retract the confessions," I countered, although I didn't disagree with her. Antonio was socially stunted and his maturity level seemed to have stopped at age fifteen.

"Well, let's go see how Mrs. Robinson feels about what he just told us."

Irene refused to speak with us, but that was almost more telling than words. She sat at the table next to her lawyer and listened as we told her that we had figured out the identity of Dylan's father.

She remained silent, but tears rolled down her cheeks.

I told her that we had given Antonio this news.

She still said nothing.

"I believe my client gave you all of the information she was willing to provide when you interviewed her this morning. Not in my presence, I might add, so everything she said to you is inadmissible."

"She agreed to talk to us without counsel present," I argued.

"You knew she had representation. You should've never brought her here without me," he insisted. "This meeting is over."

"Well, what do you think?" Alex asked me.

We were back at our desks, having been temporarily benched by Ross. He was in a meeting in his office, and we were apparently next in line, so he didn't want us to attempt any kind of escape.

"I think she knows it's coming to a head," I replied. "We're still light on motive though."

"She's going to recant her confession, too, now that she knows we've learned about Antonio. There's no reason to try to derail the investigation anymore."

"Unless Antonio is the real killer. Then she'll go to jail for sexual assault and he'll go up for murder…where does that leave Dylan?"

"It's starting to make sense why she fingered you," Alex said quietly. "Don't you think? She knew you would consider it possible. And if she got into trouble, then you could take care of him."

"That was pretty quick thinking. She came up with that some time between four-thirty and six a.m.?"

"I'm guessing she had help. She did call Diego, right?"

It was possible. Irene must have felt a real threat of having the paternity exposed.

So that brought me back to Carlos. Somehow he must have found out. I bet he was some kind of mad to find out that she had slept with his little brother.

"I wonder what Antonio's wife knows," I said thoughtfully.

"I bet she's home right about now. This is around the same time we stopped by yesterday."

"How long do you think Ross is going to be in that meeting?" I mused.

"I don't know. Want to jump the fence?" she asked with a spark in her eye.

"Why does the idea of breaking rules appeal to you so much?" I teased back. "And why am I just recently learning this? I bet you were hot and bothered on a daily basis with all of the rule-breaking I used to do back in the old days."

"If you only knew," she replied suggestively.

I watched as she quickly scrawled out the words _we'll be back_ on piece of paper and left it on the top of my desk.

"He's going to be mad," I stated as we hustled towards the elevator.

"Oh please. When is he not mad?"

"I'm guessing that phase won't start for another ten days," I replied with a smile.

We got onto the elevator and headed down to the garage. Thirty minutes later, we parked near Antonio's building.

"I hope she managed to get dressed today," I muttered as we waited for her to answer the bell.

She didn't. I had no idea what the woman did all day long, but whatever it was, she did it in a filmy negligee and fuzzy slippers. I was starting to think that maybe she was a phone sex operator.

"Great. The cops again. You know Tony ain't here. You took him with you yesterday and he didn't make no bail."

"We actually want to talk to you Mrs. Medina," Alex told her. The woman sighed heavily and then let us in.

"I don't know what I can tell you."

"What do you know about your husband's relationship with Irene Weston?" I asked as gently as I could.

"They didn't have no relationship," she argued. I thought for a moment that she was going to be in denial, but then she added, "They were _fucking_. That's not a relationship."

"Okay," Alex managed to say, and I could tell by her tone that she was trying very hard not to laugh. "How long have they been…doing that?"

"I don't know. I just found out about it two weeks ago. I've been married to Antonio for three years, and that's how long I've known Irene. She walks around like Little Miss High 'n Mighty, but she ain't all that."

"How did you find out?" I asked her.

"I found her necklace. She wears it all the time, so I knew it was hers. It was in my fucking sheets. Can you believe that? The little bitch had the nerve to do my husband in my own bed."

I had to admit, I was a little surprised by that. It was a pretty bold move, although I had to say that I blamed Antonio more than Irene.

"What did you do with the necklace?" Alex questioned.

Good question. Irene and Antonio both had stated that they were each wearing it at the time Carlos was killed. Obviously we knew that one of them was lying, but now it seemed that they both were.

"I gave it to Carlos."

Now we were getting somewhere.

Irene had stated that Carlos knew about her and Antonio's current affair, but I had my doubts about that. What man would be okay with his ex sleeping with his brother? Especially his nearly twenty-years younger brother.

But if he knew the necklace had come from Antonio's bed…that would clear up any uncertainties. It also suggested that the affair was at least part of the cause for the fight that led to the murder, since he'd had the necklace in his hand.

Now we had to figure out if Carlos had found out about Antonio being the father. Maybe that would point us to our killer.

"When did you give it to him?" I asked her.

"Last Friday."

"Do you know where your husband was early Monday morning? Like say, between midnight and five?"

"Probably with that bitch."

So the idea that Antonio was at Irene's place was likely the truth. It was difficult to sift through the lies, but it seemed like we were slowly making progress.

We left Mrs. Medina with the promise that we would be in touch. I knew we needed to get her official statement.

We'd had to park two blocks away, so we braced ourselves against the wind and made our way back to the SUV. Alex's phone started buzzing halfway down the block. I'd heard it going off three times during our conversation with Lisa Medina, but she'd ignored it then. This time she pulled it out and looked at the display.

"It's Ross," she told me.

"Go ahead," I joked. "You're the one who wanted to live life on the edge."

She rolled her eyes at me and answered her phone.

"Goren…yes sir…yes sir…yes sir…"

I was struggling to hold back my laughter at her continued replication when I was suddenly hit from behind.

I landed hard, face first on the pavement. I heard Alex let out a grunt as she thudded to the sidewalk nearby. I rolled over to get to my feet and was met with a fist to the face.

My attacker suddenly flew sideways off of me and I realized that Alex had kicked him in the ribs. She dove after him, landing on his chest and pinning him to the ground.

I quickly got to my feet and pulled my weapon.

"I've got him Alex," I said unsteadily. She slowly got to her feet, moving gingerly. Something was hurting her, but I wasn't sure what just yet.

My face was throbbing and I wasn't sure, but I thought that my tooth had gone through my lip when I hit the pavement.

"Get up, Diego. There's not going to be any bail for you this time. You're going up for attempted murder of two police officers," I told him angrily.

I kept him covered while Alex slammed him into the wall and put on the cuffs. She had bypassed stunned and went straight to furious. I was still in shock.

"What was that about?" I yelled at him as we marched him toward the SUV.

"You're ruining everything!" he shouted back. "You told Antonio about Dylan? Irene's kept that a secret for ten years."

"We're trying to solve a murder here," Alex said sharply as she opened the back door. "Now shut the hell up and get your ass in the truck."

She flung the door closed once he was inside and then looked at me, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"I'll be fine if I could ever go a few days in a row without getting punched in the face."

"Ross had some interesting news, by the way."

"Did he yell at you for leaving?"

"No, but I'm sure that's coming. All he wanted was to tell us that he'd gotten word that Diego was released. And that he'd been granted a visitation with Antonio. He was calling to tell me that we should watch our backs."

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Ross POV**

* * *

I watched my detectives walk into the squad room and they looked like they'd been involved in a brawl. Again.

Goren was bleeding from the lip, he had what appeared to be road rash across his forehead, and his bruised jaw that had just today started turning yellowish-brown was now once again looking slightly purple. Maybe a little blue, too.

The other Goren was noticeably favoring her left side and the fabric on her pants was torn at both knees.

_What the hell did these two get into when they left 1PP and how were they ever going to survive working on their own_?

And then I saw the looks that passed between the two of them. And I knew they were going to be just fine. They'd outgrown this place. They'd earned the right to pick and choose their own cases, to be their own boss. I wasn't going to begrudge them that decision.

I continued watching them. Alex stood next to his desk as he lowered himself into his chair. She reached out as though to touch his face and then she stopped herself.

_Always the professional_.

She said something to him that had him laughing. _Goren was laughing_.

He tilted his head towards hers and said something while gesturing expressively with his hands. She smiled at him, quirked an eyebrow and then went back to her desk. He watched her the whole time.

"Detectives," I called out at last. I'd been staring at them long enough. "Get yourselves cleaned up. Then, my office."

They nodded in unison and then both of them headed down the hall. I hoped they were going into separate locker rooms, but I didn't follow them. If they weren't, I didn't want to know.

Twenty minutes later, I heard a knock on my door.

"You ready for us, Captain?" the female Goren asked. It didn't surprise me that she was the one to talk first. She was usually the spokesperson for them.

"Come on in."

Goren's face looked better. He'd washed the blood away and cleaned up the abrasion. There wasn't much he could do for the bruising and swelling on his jaw. Ask me. I knew.

The other Goren was still limping slightly, but she'd changed her pants. She came into the office and stood across from me.

I felt a little sorry for them. The last thing they needed after taking the physical abuse they'd endured was to have it followed up by a verbal lashing. But I was still their boss, and they'd ignored a direct order.

"What the hell happened?" I asked.

"Diego jumped us," she responded.

"I'll get back to that," I said, shaking my head. "What I'm asking is why you two saw fit to leave 1PP when I told you not to move from your desks?"

They looked at each other for so long that I started to wonder if they'd forgotten there was a question on the table. Hell, they'd probably forgotten that I was in the room.

"Detectives…"

"I thought…that we could…be back…before your other meeting was over," Alex said carefully.

"_You_ thought," I clarified. "So it was your idea to leave."

"Yes sir."

"Captain…" Goren spoke up but then a look from the other Goren silenced him.

"It was my idea," she insisted. "We wanted to talk to Antonio's wife. I thought that once you knew why we had to leave then you would understand our urgency. And we actually did make some headway into solving this case."

"You made headway."

"Yes sir. Antonio's wife found the necklace in her bed. She gave it to Carlos."

"So Carlos knew about the two of them. How is that motive? He wasn't married to her anymore."

"We think he also knew about Antonio being Dylan's father."

"But you don't have proof of that."

"Not yet."

"So you left the Medina place and then…got jumped. Even after I warned you?"

"Well, it was immediately after. I still had my phone in my hand when he tackled Goren from behind."

"Where is Diego now?"

They looked at each other again. I really hated when they did that. It usually meant one of two things.

Either I wasn't going to like what they had to say.

Or, they were working out some way to rearrange the truth.

I won't say they lied. I don't think they ever flat-out told me lies.

But they did have a way of obfuscating the truth that often kept me up at night.

Goren slowly pulled his eyes away from her and settled them on me.

"He's in custody but they took him to the emergency room," he told me.

I closed my eyes for a second and let out a heavy sigh.

I couldn't say that I blamed him. Goren had taken a beating from this guy two days earlier, so surely given the opportunity, he would get payback.

"Why exactly is he in the emergency room?" I asked reluctantly.

"He may have…a broken rib…or two," he replied.

"It was self-defense, sir. He had Bobby pinned down and was hitting him. I had to get him off."

Ah, so it was the female Goren who'd broken the ribs. Why was I surprised? You'd think with my jaw still aching like a son of a bitch that I would've guessed it to be her first.

"Type up your statements," I said. "I'll see what I can do about keeping him in jail this time."

"Thank you, sir."

"Go home," I told them. "It's almost four already. All of your suspects are in jail. You can start fresh tomorrow."

They both got up to leave and then Goren stopped.

"What was it you wanted to talk to us about earlier?"

Yeah, I'd been hoping to avoid that. I was actually thrilled when I came out of my meeting earlier and found that they had left.

"It's…nothing."

"Nothing?" Alex questioned. And then she turned around fully and stared at me. "You chained us to a desk for _nothing_?"

"You weren't exactly chained to a desk now were you?" I stalled.

"Captain…"

"Fine," I relented. "Liz wanted me to ask you guys to dinner. Saturday night."

They both continued to stare at me and I started to feel a little uncomfortable. I hated that Liz had put me in this position.

"_You need to ask them, Danny."_

"_Why? You talk to them all the time. You ask them."_

"_They're your detectives."_

"_So?" I'd replied childishly._

"_They've worked hard for you and they've made you look good. It'll mean more to them if it comes from you."_

I don't know why I'd argued with the woman at all. I never win.

"You want to take us to dinner," Goren stated.

"I'm sure the guys here will want to throw some kind of party for you, but I thought…maybe to…I thought…I wanted to show my appreciation."

They finally released me from the intensity of their collective gaze and went back to staring at each other.

Okay…which was it going to be?

Would I not like the answer? Because if they said no, Liz was going to have my ass.

Or were they going to creatively engineer an alternate version of the truth?

"Sure, Captain, we'd love to."

_Ah, the fabrication_. Fair enough.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

"Did he really just invite us to dinner?" I muttered to Bobby as we crossed to our desks.

"Did you really just agree to go?" he questioned back.

"I had to," I argued. "I couldn't say no. _We_ couldn't say no."

"I could've," he mumbled.

"Bobby…"

"I know. I'm just…my face hurts," he admitted and my mood immediately softened. "And I'm irritated by this whole damn case. We need to find out if Carlos knew about Antonio being the father."

"How are we going to do that?"

"Let's work it backwards," he said as he sat down at his desk.

I sat across from him even though I was itching to be closer. My hip was throbbing from where I'd landed on the sidewalk and both knees were scratched up from where I'd jumped to straddle Diego's chest.

I wanted to be home. In the bed. With Bobby. We both needed some TLC.

"Okay," I agreed. "Who knew the truth?"

"Irene. She's the only one that we know of for sure. She had Dylan tested."

"When Diego yelled at us…he said that _Irene's_ kept it a secret for ten years," I remembered. Bobby nodded enthusiastically.

"Which would indicate that _he _didn't know the whole time. Otherwise he would've said _we_."

"Right," I agreed. "So maybe Diego only recently found out. He seemed pretty sincere when he fingered you for it on Monday."

"And I'm pretty sure Antonio didn't know until we told him. Obviously Diego thinks that's the case, and Antonio's reaction when you gave him the news seemed genuine."

"So did anyone know besides Irene until after Carlos was murdered?"

"I'm betting that's what the fight was about. I bet Carlos found out and he confronted Irene with the news," Bobby stated.

"But I don't think she killed him," I admitted. I wasn't going to let my bias get in the way of good detective work.

Irene's story had made sense, mostly, but she had lied about wearing the necklace, and there was still the matter of the phone calls from her home.

And despite the fact that she had presumably slept with a minor, I still didn't think that she was a killer.

"No, probably not," he agreed. "But if she was upset with him, either one of the brothers might have done it for her."

"And we're pretty sure it wasn't Diego."

"Which leaves us with Antonio," Bobby stated, leaning back in his chair. "And Irene is protecting him because she doesn't want the father of her child to go to prison."

"How romantic," I commented. "She assumes the system will work in her favor."

"Everything else aside, we're still back to this. How would Carlos find out?"

I wracked my brain until it finally hit me. And it was painfully simple.

"Well, how did we find out?"

Bobby nodded at me gave me a small smile. His poor lip was too sore to do anything more than that. I was looking forward to getting him alone so that I could give special attention to all of his injuries.

"Requests for medical records would have to be signed. If Carlos requested records on Dylan…"

"Right. And my guess is that he did it Friday after he got the necklace from Lisa."

"Hey!" It was Ross. He stood in the doorway of his office. "I thought I told you guys to go home!"

"We're going," I assured him. "One more phone call."

"Two more calls," Bobby corrected.

"Who else?"

"You never called your sister back, did you? She wanted us to come to dinner."

I sat back and rolled my eyes. It wasn't that I didn't like my sister. Of course I did. But the idea of going to her place for dinner was just a little too much for me at the moment.

"You call Liz. See how requests for medical records are kept. If it was a hard copy, it should've been in the records we pulled but it wasn't."

"Okay. If it was recent, maybe the records haven't been updated," he suggested as he picked up his phone.

I picked up my phone and called my sister.

"Cathy, it's Alex. I'm sorry it took me so long to call you back."

"That's okay. Did Bobby tell you that I want you guys to come to dinner? Can you make it by six?"

"We actually…can't make it at all. I'm sorry, Cathy, but we're swamped right now. We've got this case and…"

"You always have a case," she countered. She sounded a little petulant at my decline of her invitation, but she'd get over it. We were all adults with our own lives. What was I supposed to do? Drop everything and come running just because she'd asked?

"We'll do it soon, I promise."

"How about Saturday?"

"Um…no, we can't then. We already have plans."

"Fine, Alex," she said shortly. "How about this? You call me when you're free."

It sounded like the perfect solution to me except for the fact that she was being snotty about it. And I felt a little bad. I did. But I was tired and the last thing in the world I felt like doing was driving out to Washington Heights to sit through dinner with Cathy and her boring husband.

"I will, I promise," I replied, opting to ignore her sarcastic intent. I hung up with her and looked at Bobby. He still held the phone to his ear, but he was humming something.

"I'm on hold," he told me. "Liz thought she could look at the hospital database herself since we have the warrant and the information should've been included."

I nodded and leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk and my head in my hands.

"Cathy mad at you?"

"Isn't she always?"

"We can go," he offered. I shook my head.

"We'll go some other time."

He started to say something but then he held up a finger.

"Yeah, I'm here."

He listened intently and grabbed a pen to jot down something on a piece of paper. I got up and walked around the desks to read over his shoulder as he finished his conversation.

_Request to test Dylan for Marfan's made by Carlos. Was told test had already been done and was faxed the results. Dated Friday afternoon._

"Thanks, Liz. We really appreciate it…yeah, he did…we'll be there."

He hung up and tapped his pen on the note he'd just written.

"This makes sense," he said. "Lisa gave him the necklace and told him about the affair. Maybe he'd had suspicions at the time, or maybe he'd started thinking about it after finding out that he wasn't the father…but whatever got him thinking, he decided to test Dylan for Marfan's. He would've known that Antonio had it. When he learned that Dylan had already been tested, he had to know why Irene had done it."

"I wonder why he waited all weekend to confront her," I mused. "And why he called rather than go over to her house."

"I don't know, but we've got our motive. If Carlos knew, and he was going to expose the truth, Antonio and Irene would've done anything to keep him quiet."

"So they did it together," I concluded.

Bobby nodded at me and then tossed his pen down.

"Let's go. Ross is right. All of our suspects are in jail and they aren't going anywhere tonight."

"Home?" I asked hopefully. My late night of drinking the night before had caught up with me, in addition to just being sore as hell.

"Home," he confirmed.

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I was secretly relieved that Alex had declined her sister's dinner invitation. Okay, so maybe it wasn't such a secret, but I was relieved nonetheless.

Last night, Alex had gone out with Carolyn. Even though I had greatly enjoyed the benefits of her excessive alcohol intake, I had missed her during the evening and so tonight I was looking forward to spending some quiet time just the two of us.

For that reason, I strongly suspected that something was going to happen.

There would be an urgent development with the case.

There would be a new body.

There would be a fire. Or pestilence. Or plagues. _Something_.

But so far so good.

We got home and shed our hardware. I glanced around the empty living room and shook my head.

"You know, it was an adventure for the first couple of days," I told Alex. "Now we just need some damn furniture."

Alex had nice furniture in her old apartment, the one that had been gutted by fire. She'd had antique mahogany bookshelves and a comfortable sofa that pulled-out for guests…

Me, I'd had a pre-furnished apartment filled with dime-store crap. The bed had been the only good piece in the place and that was because I'd bought it myself.

Which was why at the moment, we only had a bed. Of course, that was the most important piece of furniture, but still…

She laughed as she headed into the kitchen.

"Saturday. We'll go buy whatever is in stock and can be delivered the same day, okay?" she posed.

"Definitely."

I followed her into the kitchen and took the proffered beer from her hand.

"Nothing for you?" I asked with a smile as I noticed that she had a bottle of water in her other hand.

"I think I did enough drinking last night to last me for a while," she replied.

Then she reached in the cabinet and got out the ibuprofen. I needed to buy stock in it considering how much I'd been plowing through lately.

She shook several pills out into my hand and then put a few in her own before returning the bottle to the cabinet.

We'd grabbed take-out on the way home. Nothing fancy, just a pizza.

"You want to eat it in here, or do you want to take it into the bedroom?" she asked me.

My mind flashed irrationally back to all of the times we used to look over case notes together at my apartment. In the old days, before she'd gotten the courage to tear down my walls.

We would get a pizza and sit in the living room and mostly work but we would talk a little. Later, after she'd left, I would think about her and imagine those very words coming out of her mouth. _Do you want to take it into the bedroom?_

And those words were always followed by a scorching hot sexual experience, which in reality was a solo effort, but in my head…

"Bobby?"

"Oh. Sorry," I told her, embarrassed that my mind had been lost in memories. Why reminisce when the real thing was right in front of me?

She must have gotten a feel for where my mind had escaped to because she approached me and ran her hands up the front of my shirt.

"Do you want to go in the bedroom?" she repeated, but this time there was intent behind her words.

Yeah, she'd read my mind.

I took her hand and led her down the hall. We left the pizza in the kitchen.

Once in the bedroom, I very slowly removed her sweater. Her jeans came next and as I eased them off her hips, I sucked in a breath at the sight of the large bruise on her left side. I traced my hand along the edges of the mark and then followed the track with my lips.

After giving that spot its due attention, I worked my way down her legs. I knew her knees were hurting because I'd seen the torn slacks she'd been wearing earlier, so it was no surprise to find raw skin and slight bruising.

"Do they hurt?" I asked quietly. I continued massaging along her thighs and calves, carefully steering clear of the abraded skin.

"Not when you're doing that," she sighed.

"Get up on the bed," I commanded softly.

"You're hurting, too," she argued.

"You first. Get on the bed." This time I said it in a voice that brooked no argument. She sat down on the edge of the mattress and then scooted back to the middle and laid down with her head on the pillow.

I took a moment to look at her and then I kicked off my shoes and got on the bed. I resumed the light massage along her feet and legs and then directed her to roll over.

Her back had another bruise on it. It was smaller and up high on her shoulder blade.

"What's this from?" I asked as I ran my fingertips over the purple-colored skin. "I thought you fell on your side?"

"I did," she mumbled, her face down in the pillow.

"You've got a bruise here."

"I think that's from last night," she admitted. She turned her head to the side and smiled at me.

_Ah. The handle on the kitchen cabinet._

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she assured me in a contented voice. "I'm not."

I moved my hands up to her shoulders and then kneaded the muscles in her arms down to her hands. I picked up one hand and gently rubbed down the fingers and into the palm.

Her broken fingers had mostly healed, but I was still careful with them. She also had a scar on her hand from where Masarro the mafia Don had stabbed her. Her healing abilities amazed me. The woman had taken a beating in the past few months. Quite a few beatings in fact, but she kept bouncing back with remarkable resilience.

"Do these still hurt?" I asked her as I manipulated each finger.

"Nothing on me hurts at the moment. If you keep doing that, I'm going to fall asleep and you're not going to get your turn."

"I'm okay with that," I told her, glad that I was the source of such relaxation for her.

"I'm not," she replied. She turned over again and this time sat up and began working the buttons on my shirt.

"I love this shirt," she stated. "Have I told you that? You are so sexy in blue stripes."

I felt a rush of pleasure at the compliment and I silently vowed to wear blue stripes as much as possible. But then she continued.

"Of course, you're sexy in plain blue, too. And black. And dark gray…"

"So, pretty much anything?" I teased.

"Anything," she agreed. She dropped her eyes seductively before slowly dragging her gaze back up my body and adding, "And nothing."

She pulled the shirt from my arms and once it was fully removed, she slipped it on herself. I watched her as she did only a few of the buttons, mercifully leaving several key positions undone.

"I'm not the only one who looks sexy in blue stripes," I told her.

She grinned at me and then pushed on my shoulders until I fell back onto the bed.

Then she slowly, tortuously, undid my belt.

My response to her was immediate, and my need to be out of my slacks was pressing. But she continued her agonizing pace. I would swear that I could hear each tooth of the zipper as she slowly lowered the device.

When she finished, the extra room provided by the release of the closure was a godsend and I let out a long steadying breath.

"You're killing me, Alex," I murmured.

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," she countered as she slid her hands inside my pants and began methodically pulling them down my legs.

And of course, she didn't stop there. Once she had them off, she worked her way back up, leaning in so close that I could feel her breath on the newly exposed skin. As she moved, the ends of her hair traced along behind creating a titillating sensation.

I closed my eyes to fight against losing control too soon, but I was struggling. Smithsonian articles were failing me. Crime statistics were escaping me.

And then her hands began to work the muscles of my thighs and I knew I wasn't breathing anymore and I was wondering what would happen to my erection if I passed out before climaxing.

And then I wanted to laugh at my random thought, but at the same time it was a valid consideration. Would that save me from coming too soon? When I regained consciousness, would I get to start over on my road to completion?

"Bobby," she whispered, and damn if I couldn't feel her breath right on my…

"Bobby, look at me."

_No, I absolutely cannot look_. But I also couldn't deny her. I opened my eyes.

"You're thinking too much. Just relax."

"I'm not…okay, yeah I was. It just feels too good and I don't want it to end."

"Relax," she whispered again and her hands kept moving higher up my thighs and then…then I suddenly felt in control.

I was no longer riding the line. In fact, I wasn't even close to the line.

Alex threw her leg across my hip and straddled me. Then she leaned forward, running her hands up my chest and massaging the pectoral muscles. Casually, as though no modern miracle had just occurred when I knew for a fact that it had.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" I asked. I had to ask. I had to know, especially since I had seriously been considering the option of forcing myself to pass out.

"I said I would run out of tricks _eventually_. I didn't mean this week," she replied coyly.

I threw my head back against the pillow and grinned, split lip be damned.

"You need to write a book, honey. If you outline all of the tricks you know, it would be a best seller."

She chuckled a little and leaned over closer so that she could place kisses along my chest and neck, then she gradually worked her way up to my ears and face.

Every nerve ending in my body was tingling and I was enjoying the renewed sense of building arousal.

"I'm not sharing with anyone but you," she whispered into my ear.

She moved off of me for a second and told me to roll over, and then she started again with the onslaught of hands and lips and tickling hair…if I never left this spot it would be too soon.

But at the same time, my desire was building at an alarming rate. She shifted down to massage the backs of my legs. By the time she worked her way up to my butt, I had to start conjugating verbs in Italian. Sbrodo, sbrovado, sbrodero, sbrodai, sbrodare…

Yeah, that was not helping. I probably shouldn't have chosen that particular verb.

I decided not to fight it any longer. I turned back over and reached for Alex, pulling her down on top of me.

"Voglio scopare," I whispered fiercely since I was in Italian mode. I flipped us again so that she was underneath me. I desperately needed to be in control. I just desperately _needed_.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she replied. She was still wearing my shirt and I loved it, but I hated not seeing her skin, so with one hand, I pulled at the fabric until the buttons gave way.

"You didn't tell me that hitting the reset button would make it even more intense the second time around," I growled as I plunged into her. She yelled out my name and then clamped her hands on my butt, urging me even faster.

"Are you…complaining?" she managed to ask.

"No," I said. And then as she ran her fingernails down my ass, I shouted out, "Hell no!"

And then suddenly there was a banging on the wall behind our headboard and we could hear our neighbor shouting through the wall, "Shut the hell up and finish already!"

Alex burst out laughing, and gripped me tighter.

"You heard the man," she told me, still chuckling.

"You're not supposed to laugh at a time like this," I chastised, although my rhythm faltered due to my own laughter. "It's not good for my ego."

"There's not a damn thing wrong with your…ego," she replied, and then she added, "This is a great introduction to our new neighbors, huh?"

"Maybe we need to move the bed so that it's up against the other wall," I suggested.

"Later," she mumbled, her arousal once again overriding her amusement.

"Much later," I agreed. I placed my forearms on either side of her head so that I could lean down and capture her lips. Pain shot through me from the pressure on my split lip, but I ignored it and continued to work my mouth over her jaw, her cheeks, across her forehead…

"Bobby," she uttered on a low moan. And then she kept repeating my name over and over and if I hadn't already been close, then just that low husky sound would've done it.

But I was close.

I was beyond close.

In fact, I was closer than she was.

So I forced myself into a few seconds of rational thought until I remembered a trick of my own.

_This should level the playing field_, I thought with a smile.

Almost immediately she was no longer moaning my name, but screaming it at the top of her lungs. She was yelling and the headboard was banging against the wall, and it wasn't long before the neighbor was once again thumping on the wall and shouting at us.

But all was well.

I collapsed on top of her, laughing again at the neighbor and delighting in the idea that I had elicited such a sound from her.

I'd known when we got home that _something_ would happen. It was nice to know that once in awhile that feeling of portent would lead to something positive.

"I was supposed to be making you feel good," she said at last after several long moments of heavy breathing.

"You think you didn't?" I asked with a satisfied smile.

"I think we need to co-write that book."

TBC...

I blame this one on Mitzvahgirl. She had to keep talking about sexy Bobby in his blue-striped shirt...I promise to have Alex sew the buttons back on!


	16. Chapter 16

**Alex POV**

* * *

I woke up Thursday morning feeling a damn sight better than I had the day before. Drunk sleep is just not good sleep, but last night had been perfect. _In so many ways_, I thought with a smile.

I rolled out of bed and let out a groan as my sore muscles protested the action. Okay, so maybe the evening hadn't been quite as restful as I'd intended, but I'd been unable to resist.

The look on Bobby's face when I'd innocently asked him if he wanted to go into the bedroom…

All I'd meant was to question where he wanted to eat dinner. How was I supposed to know that the simple inquiry would send his mind back to a fantasy he'd had about me in our pre-relationship days?

It thrilled me to no end to realize just how many times the man had envisioned us together. The mere idea of what he would do while he was thinking of me…

_No time for a dirty mind, Alex_, I chastised.

"Good, you're up," Bobby said as he came into the room. He was dressed, but he was obviously only recently out of the shower. His hair was still damp and the smell of his soap and cologne was heady.

His face, although handsome as always, was a riot of colors. Dark red scratches lined his forehead, a scab had formed on his lip, and one side of his face was a myriad of blues, greens, yellows and browns. He'd opted not to shave this morning, probably in an effort to help hide the bruising.

"Just," I admitted as I went into his arms. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"About as expected," he replied. "I think if I take one more hit to the jaw it's going to shatter."

"A lesser man would've gone down a long time ago," I assured him. I went up on my toes to kiss him lightly on the lips and then I turned around and headed for the shower.

"Have you been up long?" I called out to him.

"About twenty minutes. You shower up, and I'll get the coffee going."

We were both well ahead of the alarm, but he was anxious to get into work and I didn't blame him. I was, too. We were likely going to wrap up this case today and it was always motivating to know an investigation has reached completion.

"I was thinking about the safe," I told him after I'd finished with my shower. I was mostly dressed, and he had just brought me a cup of coffee.

"In Carlos' office?"

"Uh huh. We wondered about what was in there. What if it was the faxed report of Dylan's Marfan's test?"

"That would make sense," he agreed. "Carlos received the results while he was at the office. It would stand to reason that he would put them somewhere for safekeeping."

"Who would know his combination? The safe wasn't broken into, and I don't see any of our suspects as master thieves."

"I'm guessing that Irene would. He's been in that office a long time, so the safe was probably there while the two of them were still married."

"I don't know your locker combination at work," I countered with a smile. "Married couples don't tell each other everything."

"You know it," he argued with a mischievous look on his face.

"I do?"

"If you had to guess…"

"A date of some significance?" I asked. He nodded and moved closer to me, leaning down close so that his lips brushed my ear.

"The date that we met," he whispered. A warm, tingling feeling rushed through me at his admission, and only increased when I looked at him and saw that he was blushing.

"In Deakins' office? When he partnered us together?"

"Uh huh," he replied with a little shrug.

He stepped back from me and went to put on his tie.

"So anyway," he continued as though he hadn't just told me the sweetest thing ever. "Irene either knew it or would have some pretty good guesses as to what the combination would be."

"Which means that she knew Carlos had the report. She knew Antonio was going over there, and she wanted him to get it back."

"So she knew about the murder ahead of time."

"Or he was only supposed to talk to him, maybe beat him up a little," I suggested. I still had trouble grasping the idea that these seemingly normal people would resort to murder.

"Taking the report from Carlos but leaving him alive wouldn't change anything," he countered.

And as usual, he was probably right.

The hospital had the records of the test, but aside from Carlos, no one else would ever think to ask about it. So to keep it quiet, they had to kill Carlos and remove the evidence.

Irene's lie about Bobby had been perpetuated since eighteen months earlier. Once Carlos found out that he wasn't the father, then she had to give him a name. Since Carlos knew about her relationship with Bobby around the time of Dylan's conception, he was a natural choice.

And when she'd mentioned it on Monday, she was clinging to the hope that we would believe it and that branch of the investigation would be over. If we'd believed her and stopped looking into the parentage, we would've never found a motive.

But since we didn't, she'd decided to confess as an alternate means of ending our search.

I wasn't sure why Antonio had confessed unless it was just to save Irene. The same probably went for Diego.

But today, we were going to get this mess sorted out once and for all.

"So what's yours?" Bobby asked me as we strapped on our weapons and clipped our badges into place. _Only one more week with a badge_, I thought idly. The once-horrifying idea was now just a fact. I was ready to leave. And I would still get to carry a gun, so that was good.

"My what?"

"Your locker combination."

"You tell me," I teased as we headed for the front door.

"Tell me when you changed it."

"A long time ago."

"Years ago?"

"Uh huh."

He was into it now, and the funny thing was that he would probably never guess. He would never think that I would've made it something about him since I'd admitted I'd done it a long time ago.

Even after our time together, and after all the times I'd told him how I'd wanted him, lusted after him, for years, he still couldn't quite grasp the concept that I found him desirable.

Now, yes. But not then.

And the combination was painfully simple and obvious if he only had just a little bit of faith in the idea of how long I'd loved him.

We locked up and went downstairs. We crossed the street to where the SUV was parked and climbed in. Bobby was quiet the whole time. When I started up the engine, he finally spoke.

"I've got it," he said.

"I don't think you do," I teased.

"Want to make a bet?"

"On whether or not you know my combination? How many tries do you get?"

"I only need one," he said with a grin.

"Sure. Name it."

I don't know why I'd been expecting him to gamble on a foot massage or on who had to cook dinner. Bobby is never pedestrian.

As I maneuvered through the early morning traffic, he outlined the specifications of the bet. What would happen if I won and what would happen if I lost.

And to be honest, I didn't see where either scenario could be considered losing, so I quickly accepted the terms.

"08-20-61," he asserted confidently.

When was I going to learn not to make bets with this man?

And when had he gained enough self-esteem to even consider that I would use a date related to him as my combination?

It didn't matter. I was just thrilled that he had.

My silence must have clued him in as to his accuracy. He looked at me smugly.

"I'll be expecting you to pay up tonight."

-----------

We got to 1PP and spent the first hour taking care of the arrangements to get Irene into an interrogation room. Again.

Quite frankly, I was sick of being in the same room with the woman, but we needed to get this thing over with.

We considered her the accomplice rather than the perpetrator, so speaking with her first would allow us to offer her some leniency in exchange for testimony against Antonio. Not that I thought for one second that she'd take a deal, but we had to try.

And I thought that maybe there was a way that I could get her to talk.

"Who's up first?" Ross asked us as he walked into the squad room. It wasn't like him to not already be in his office when we arrived at work. It was nearly nine o'clock and he was just strolling in.

"Irene," Bobby replied.

"I'm going to talk to her alone," I said.

"What?" Bobby asked me in surprise. It was simultaneous to Ross' emphatic declaration, "No."

"That's a bad idea," Bobby added, shaking his head.

"I disagree," I insisted. "We'll talk woman to woman. Maybe she'll open up."

"Alex…"

"Detective, it's not a good idea. You're the wife. She's the ex-girlfriend."

Bobby nodded his head in agreement with Ross. With _Ross_.

"Are you questioning my professionalism?" I asked sharply. I didn't like that I felt as though I was being ganged up on by the boys' club.

"Of course not, Detective," Ross replied quickly.

"Then I don't see the problem."

"Alex," Bobby said again, and when I looked at him I was taken aback. He actually looked mad. Really mad. _I_ was the one who should be mad here, not him.

"I'm sorry, sir, can you excuse us a moment?" Bobby asked Ross, and then he didn't even wait for a response before taking me by the elbow and guiding me into an empty conference room.

He closed the door. Hard. And then he started pacing around the room. After a minute, he stopped and stood with his arms crossed.

"What the hell was that?" he asked finally.

"You tell me. You want to argue with me in front of the Captain? If you don't like my ideas, you could at least tell me in private," I replied.

"I would have if you'd _mentioned_ them in private, instead of ambushing me with it in front of Ross."

"I just thought of it, and it didn't occur to me that you would have a problem with it."

"We've been talking about the case all morning, and then all of a sudden, in front of Ross, you decide you want to talk to her alone?"

"What are you worried about?"

"I'm not worried. I'm upset that you didn't consult…"

"Consult you?" I interrupted. "I need to check with you on every decision?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I…"

"You said you were upset that I didn't consult with you," I stated.

"I'm upset that you decided a course of action without discussing it with me. We're working this case together, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"How would you feel if I'd made a snap decision and said it to the captain before saying it to you?"

"I can tell you exactly how I'd feel because you do that to me _all of the time_!" I shouted. "You follow leads or come up with theories on the fly…_you make decisions without discussing them with me!_"

"I did," he said quietly. He scrubbed his hands over his face in a frustrated gesture. "I _did_. But I _don't._"

"I…" and then I finally got what he was saying. He _used_ to act that way. Before his suspension.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a minute.

Damn, I hated to be wrong.

But I was.

It wasn't even that we were married. It was that we were partners.

After he came off suspension last summer, we'd worked out our issues as partners. We'd cleared the air and come to the agreement that we always presented a unified front to Ross, to everyone. If we had a problem, it would be handled separately, privately.

"I'm sorry," I said at last. "I…should've waited until we were alone."

He nodded, but stood his ground. I knew that I had hurt him by throwing the past in his face.

"Bobby, really. I don't know where that came from. I am sorry."

"Me, too," he said on a sigh. "I shouldn't have argued with you in front of Ross. You caught me off guard and I reacted…badly."

We stared at each other a moment longer. I wanted to hug him. I wanted the reassurance that we were okay. It wasn't like we never fought, but I hated to do it when we couldn't properly make up. Especially when this one was mostly my fault.

"So, you want to talk to her alone?"

"I thought that maybe…I don't know. I thought maybe I could talk to her about Dylan. Surely she's concerned about what's going to happen to him. I was just going to let her have a sympathetic ear."

"You think I'm not sympathetic?"

"You are," I agreed. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea."

"No, it is. My first reaction was…wrong. I was just thinking about some of the things she said to you the other day and how much it bothered you later. I don't want her to hurt you."

And now I felt even worse. Had I really considered that Bobby was pulling a boys' club maneuver on me? What the hell was I thinking? I shook my head at my own idiocy. Either I was seriously hormonal or I was losing my mind.

"Let's try it," Bobby continued. "I'll be watching. If it starts going down the wrong path, I'll come in and we'll improvise from there."

He stepped closer to me, and mindful of the open blinds in the room, simply placed his hand on my forearm.

"So, we're okay?"

"No," I told him. "We're better than that."

"Good," he replied with a playful grin. "Because you know, you still owe me…"

I smiled back at him, relieved to be back on an even keel. I really hated fighting with him.

"I know."

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I stood in the observation room and waited for Alex to join Irene.

I was a little concerned because Irene seemed to have regained some of her confidence since the last time we'd seen her. She no longer looked beaten.

And I had complete faith in Alex to do her job. I just didn't want to see her hurt in the process.

Ross came into the room and stood next to me.

"Everything okay with you two?"

I glanced at Ross briefly, not wanting to miss watching Irene's face when Alex opened the door, but yet surprised that he had asked the question.

"We're fine," I assured him.

"And you're okay with her doing this?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He sighed loudly to signify his annoyance with me, but that wasn't anything new. Ross was annoyed with me on a regular basis. If he thought I was going to confide in him about the minor spat Alex and I had just been through, he was out of his mind.

A moment later, Alex entered the interrogation room and sat down across from Irene.

Ross promptly turned on the speaker.

"_**Where's your lawyer?" **_Alex asked.

"_**I fired him.**_ _**Where's Bobby?" **_Irene retorted as she looked toward the door.

"_**Detective Goren had other business to attend to."**_

"_**He must really love you."**_

Alex didn't respond to the comment, but instead went about organizing documents from the case file on the table between them.

"_**Don't you want to know how I know?"**_

_Don't take the bait, Alex, _I thought.

"_**It's not relevant."**_

"_**Sure it is. He let you come in here with me. He knows I'm going to try to get under your skin, but he trusts you to handle it."**_

I cringed at the '_let you_' remark, but Alex kept her cool.

"_**I think you give yourself too much credit."**_

"_**What do you mean?"**_

"_**Why would I allow anything you say to get under my skin? That would mean I value your opinion somehow."**_

Irene raised an eyebrow at her and gave her a knowing smile.

"_**I don't," **_Alex added, matching her predatory grin.

"_**So it wouldn't bother you if I were to…oh, I don't know. Talk about our sex life? I could tell you some things…"**_

I reached up and clicked off the speaker.

"Uh, Captain, I'd really feel more comfortable if you weren't in the room," I told Ross.

"I'm not interested in your sex life, Detective."

"Exactly. If she starts talking, it could prove awkward for both of us."

Ross regarded me carefully for a moment, but then mercifully gave me a nod and left the room. I resumed listening.

"_**I'd rather talk about what why you seduced a fifteen year old boy," **_Alex was saying.

Irene faltered at that remark, and I gave an internal cheer for Alex's focus.

"_**I don't know what you're talking about."**_

"_**Dumb doesn't become you," **_Alex replied casually._** "We know Antonio is Dylan's father. Why else would you have had him tested for Marfan's?"**_

"_**Maybe it's Diego."**_

"_**We checked. Diego was in California," **_she told her_**. "Now let's stop playing games. We can get a paternity test with a court order, but that's going to take weeks to process. I've got the time. Do you?"**_

"_**What difference does it make? I'm stuck in here anyway."**_

"_**You're in here because of the assault charges. You couldn't make bail since you'd also confessed to a murder. If you talk to me, I can help you. At the very least, we can make sure that you're granted bail so you can get out and spend some time with Dylan."**_

"_**You mean before I go away for good."**_

"_**Maybe. But I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth. Why did Carlos call you Monday morning? Was it to tell you that he knew about Antonio? Did he threaten to expose you?"**_

_Come on, come on_, I chanted in my head.

I could hear the seconds ticking off the clock as I watched the two women in a stare-down.

Then to my amazement, Alex leaned across the table and spoke quietly to her. I have no idea what she said because despite cranking up the volume as high as it would go, I still couldn't hear her.

I watched the emotion play across Irene's face as Alex slowly sat back in her chair. Regret. Relief. Acceptance.

"_**Carlos knew," **_Irene admitted at last_**. "He was furious. I guess he'd found out about it on Friday, but I was away for the weekend, so when he called on Monday he was furious. We fought."**_

"_**About which part? That you were currently seeing Antonio, or that you'd slept with him ten years ago?"**_

"_**Both. He said that if I didn't break things off with Antonio then he'd go to the cops with the truth about Dylan. And then I'd be charged with sexual assault."**_

"_**You agreed?"**_

"_**I did, but I knew I would never go through with it. I couldn't end it with Antonio. I love him. He's the father of my son. I wanted him to leave Lisa and be with me."**_

"_**So after the phone call…"**_

"_**Antonio was upset. He'd heard enough of my end of the conversation to be able to put the pieces together."**_

"_**So he **_**did**_** know that he was Dylan's father."**_

"_**No, not that part. He just knew that Carlos was trying to intervene in our relationship."**_

"_**Irene, I hate to sound judgmental, but you've got to explain it to me. How does a thirty-four year old woman get involved with a teenage boy? He was **_**barely**_** fifteen. You had to know that was wrong."**_

"_**I was…you wouldn't understand."**_

"_**Try me."**_

"_**You," **_Irene said with a humorless laugh_**. "You wouldn't have any idea about what it's like to have your self-confidence shredded. To feel like…nothing."**_

I watched as Alex shifted in her chair.

"_**I'm sure everyone has experienced that at one time or another."**_

"_**Please," **_Irene scoffed_**. "Look at you. You've got this great career. You're married to the perfect man. What could you possibly feel insecure about?"**_

"_**I haven't always had the perfect man. In fact, I went through quite a few wrong ones before I found the right one," **_Alex confided_**. "And I've got to be honest…getting dumped never made me want to go to my local high school to find a date."**_

_Ouch_, I thought. But surprisingly, Irene laughed.

"_**I know. It was crazy. Bobby had left me without a word…just disappeared into the woodwork. And Carlos…he'd found out that I was with Bobby at the same time I'd started dating him, and he was understandably upset. He had a way with words…he could cut to the quick, you know?"**_

She paused a moment, and Alex nodded in understanding and then slid a box of Kleenex across the table_**.**_

"_**He was a good man, a good father, but he had such a temper," **_she continued_**. "And when he fought, he fought mean. So I'd gone from having two men to having no one. And Carlos had made me feel…worthless. I never intended to start anything with Antonio. I knew he was a kid. But a few days after a big fight with Carlos, I went to his parents' house. I'd thought he'd said he was going to be there for the weekend, but he wasn't. Antonio told me he'd gone to the Hamptons with some swimsuit model."**_

"_**And so the self-esteem dropped even further."**_

"_**Right. But then Antonio started telling me how crazy it was of Carlos to break up with me. And I knew he had a crush on me, and I knew it was wrong, but it was such a boost for my ego…"**_

"_**Was it just the one time? Or was it an ongoing relationship?" **_

"_**It was…just that weekend. We spent the weekend together. And then I came back to New York, and so did Carlos and we made up…I never spoke of it."**_

"_**Antonio never told anyone either?"**_

"_**Not that I know of. When I got pregnant, I was in complete denial that the baby was anyone's but Carlos. I did have him tested for Marfan's, just to be safe, but since he was negative that only bolstered my conviction that Carlos was the father. And that worked out just fine until Dylan got sick and we got word about the blood type discrepancy."**_

"_**Why did you bring Bobby into it?"**_

"_**That was Carlos' assumption. He'd known about Bobby, so he presumed he was the only other viable candidate."**_

"_**When did you resume your affair with Antonio?"**_

"_**Last summer."**_

"_**And Carlos didn't know about it."**_

"_**He suspected once. He asked me about it, but I denied it. And we weren't married anymore, so he didn't push the issue. But then when he found out that Antonio was Dylan's father…he didn't want me to have anything to do with Antonio anymore. He threatened to fight me for custody of Dylan. He knew I couldn't contest it by saying Carlos wasn't the father, because then I'd have to admit to who it really was."**_

"_**So Carlos told you to leave Antonio alone, and if you did, he'd leave things like they were, paying child support and you with full custody."**_

"_**Right. Except that Antonio was there, and he knew I was upset, and so then he got mad."**_

"_**And he went to see Carlos?"**_

"_**Yes."**_

"_**Did you know he planned to kill him?"**_

"_**I…no. I thought he was just going to rough him up a little. But I did tell him how to get into Carlos' safe. I told him to grab all of the papers out of it."**_

"_**You weren't afraid that he would see the report?"**_

"_**No," **_she replied dismissively_**. "I knew that Carlos kept all kinds of things in there. Antonio wouldn't look through it."**_

"_**Afterwards. Antonio came back to your place?"**_

"_**He brought me the papers. And he told me what had happened."**_

"_**It happened like you said in your confession? The chair, the struggle…"**_

"_**Yes. I knew what to say because he'd told me everything."**_

"_**Except the necklace. You didn't know that Carlos had it in his hand."**_

"_**I guess Antonio didn't realize. I don't know why he was holding it."**_

"_**Why did you confess? Was it just to hide the evidence of sexual assault?"**_

"_**Partly, yes. And I felt responsible. I should've worked harder to calm Antonio down. I knew he had a temper. He hated it whenever Carlos butted into his life. If I had just glossed over the conversation…if I'd hidden how upset I was…maybe Carlos wouldn't be dead."**_

"_**You know I'm going to need you to make an official statement, right? Are you willing to restate the facts as we've discussed?"**_

"_**I will. Is there anything…can you…you said you can help me get bail?"**_

"_**I don't know what will happen with the charges you may face in Connecticut. But as far as New York is concerned, you'll be charged as an accessory after the fact. And obstruction. But I'll talk to my captain about dropping the assault charges and you should be able to get bond."**_

"_**Thank you, Detective Goren. And I don't know if Bobby mentioned it, but I am truly sorry for dragging you into this. I didn't know…I never imagined…I didn't think Bobby would ever get married. He didn't seem the type. Obviously he just hadn't met the right person yet."**_

Alex nodded and got up from her chair.

"_**You still took advantage of him," **_she told Irene_**. "Even though you didn't know about me, you tried to take advantage of his good nature…his kind heart. I think you owe him an apology more than me."**_

"_**You're right," **_she agreed_**. "Please tell him for me. Tell him I'm sorry."**_

"_**You just did," **_Alex told her with a tip of her head toward the two-way mirror. She went to the door and put her hand on the knob._** "Wait in here. I'll have an officer come in to get your statement, and in the meantime I'll see what I can do to arrange a quick arraignment."**_

I left the observation room and met Alex in the hall.

"That was incredible," I told her. "I think she would've offered you her ATM password if you'd asked."

"She was ready to talk. She's not a criminal. I mean she is, but she doesn't have the stomach for it. Too much conscience. Where's Ross?"

"I asked him to leave."

"And he did?"

"I think we were both afraid of what she might say," I admitted with a rueful smile. "By the way, what did you say to her to get her started? When you leaned in close?"

"I asked her to think about Dylan. She's likely going to jail whether she talks or not, so wouldn't it be better to tell the truth and accept the consequences? Wasn't that the type of role model she wanted to be for her son?"

"How did you know that would work? Bringing up Dylan could've just as easily clammed her up, thinking her little game of round-robin confessions would work."

"I trust your judgment," she said simply.

"My judgment?"

"You dated her. By your own admission, you were with her longer than any other woman until me. If she wasn't a good person, you would've seen through her. And she's a good person. She just made a few bad choices and then got caught up in the cover up."

She smiled at me, and I was amazed by her skills. She'd read Irene perfectly, she'd manipulated the conversation flawlessly, and she'd extracted the truth from a reluctant witness.

"So, you want to make another wager?" she asked me as we sat down at our desks.

"You really want to bet me again? You know you never win."

"You get Antonio to talk, to tell the same story," she challenged. "Now that he's recanted, I'm not sure he's going to be willing to say anything."

"You think I can't get him to talk?"

"I don't know," she teased. "Double or nothing?"

"You're on."

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

**Alex POV**

* * *

The chat with Irene had been enlightening.

And slightly liberating.

I wasn't sure if I would ever admit it out loud, but knowing that someone like her had moments of insecurities made me feel better. That's probably not very nice, being grateful for someone else's anguish, but it's the truth.

Maybe I'd have to bring that up the next time Carolyn and I got together. I had a feeling she would have some deep insight into that. And something appropriately catty to say, too. She was the perfect blend of intellect and wit and realism. I could completely get why Mike was so in love with her.

Bobby had clearly been impressed with my interrogation technique. Not surprised, of course. He's always respected my abilities in the interrogation room. But I loved that I was able to impress him in an area that was usually considered to be his arena.

And yes, it had been a crap shoot. It could've totally backfired. But like I told him, I knew the woman had to have some redeeming qualities. Bobby hadn't just had a one-night stand with her. He'd actually dated her for several months.

If she lacked a moral compass, he'd have picked up on it. And okay, so maybe her needle wasn't always set to true north, but still…she was mostly an ethical person.

So after my session with Irene, I was feeling pretty good.

I would get Ross to drop the assault charges, I would talk to the DA about not challenging the bail motion, and then Irene would have a chance to spend some time with Dylan before she went off to prison.

Because she would be going to prison. I wasn't sure yet for how long, but there would be time involved.

I also wasn't sure how it would work with the state of Connecticut. I would let the DA sort that out.

And so now we had to deal with Antonio. Or rather, Bobby had to deal with Antonio while I watched. We'd upped the ante on our bet, but I have to admit that I wasn't too concerned.

Not that I didn't think Bobby could do it, because as far as I was concerned, he was the master of the interrogation room.

But simply because, even though I always love to win, this time losing would be okay with me.

My cell phone buzzed as Bobby and I headed down the hall.

"Hang on," I told him as I pulled it out. I didn't want him to start without me. "It's Cathy."

"It must be something," he replied. "She's not usually so persistent. I'll wait."

So I answered. She didn't say hello or ask if I was busy or anything. She just started chattering.

"I wanted to tell you last night at dinner, but since you wouldn't come, I figured I'd better just call."

"Cathy, what is it?"

"Me and Steve are getting divorced. I…wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone in the department."

Steve worked at the 3-8 as a CSU tech. He and my sister had been married for thirteen years. I'd given them their child.

"I'm sorry," I told her. I wasn't sure what to say. I couldn't even tell for sure if she was happy or sad.

"Don't be. I'm the one who called it quits."

"Just like that?"

"It's been coming for awhile."

_How long is awhile_, I wondered. Had my nephew been a last-ditch effort to save the marriage?

"Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. I'm actually…um…seeing someone."

I closed my eyes and held my tongue. _What was wrong with people_? She wasn't even out of one relationship before she was working on another.

_Why not try to fix the one you have_, I wanted to shout.

"Alex?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm sorry, but I really need to go. We're kind of right in the middle of something. I'll call you tonight, and we'll talk some more, okay?"

"No, I'm busy tonight."

"Sunday then. We'll have lunch."

I hung up with Cathy feeling slightly depressed. I'd never really cared much for Steve, but that didn't mean I wanted him and Cathy to split. I hated that my nephew would probably end up being shuffled between homes.

"Everything okay?" Bobby asked me.

"I'll tell you later. Let's get Antonio to break and then we'll go to lunch."

"You sound like such a badass," he teased. "Stand up to the boss – check. Get the accomplice to crack – check. Get the murderer to confess – check. And all before lunch."

"Yeah, well you're skewing the truth here. _You_ have to get the murderer to confess," I told him, giving him a slight shove toward the interrogation room. "You've got ten minutes. The clock starts now."

"Ten minutes? We didn't put a time limit on it!"

"Nine minutes, fifty-three seconds," I joked as I let the door of the observation room close behind me.

Five seconds later, the interrogation room door flung open and Bobby walked in. Antonio was there with his attorney and both were sitting at the table.

At the sound of the dramatic entrance, both men at the table focused their full attention on Bobby.

He had my complete attention, too. He wore a perfectly-fitting black suit accompanied by a white shirt. He also had on the burgundy tie I'd picked up for him a couple of days ago. His face was scruffy with yesterday's beard, but it only enhanced his dominating presence.

I watched him as he carefully regarded Antonio and his mouthpiece, eyeing them both knowingly.

Then he began to pace around the room as though he owned it.

And really, he did.

_This was one thing that I was going to miss_.

I'd always enjoyed the cat-and-mouse of the interrogation room, especially when Bobby and I worked it together.

But watching him in his element was a pleasure all its own. Bobby in an interrogation room was a sight to behold.

I wondered idly if Ross would let us do a little bit of sub-contracted confession wrangling.

"_**I don't know why you wanted this meeting," **_Antonio's lawyer said_**. "My client has nothing to say until his trial."**_

"_**He needs to say something," **_Bobby countered_**. "My partner just talked to Irene. She told her everything. Now it's your turn."**_

"_**This is getting redundant," **_the attorney clamored.

"_**We don't need your statement," **_Bobby said to Antonio, ignoring the lawyer completely. _**"We have hers. But you can help yourself, right here, right now."**_

Antonio looked worriedly at his attorney, who shook his head.

"_**When I have a copy of the witness statement, then maybe my client will talk."**_

"_**Antonio, he's not giving you good advice here," **_Bobby said, shaking his head_**. "You're going down for this. The only question is how far."**_

The two at the table remained silent, but Antonio was starting to sweat.

"_**Don't you want to spend time with your son? Don't you want to get to know him as his father?"**_

Antonio nodded quickly.

Bobby strode confidently over to the table and slammed his hand down on the surface.

"_**Then tell me what I need to know!" **_he shouted, stabbing his finger in the air in Antonio's direction.

I was so caught up in Bobby's performance that I barely even noticed Ross as he came into the room.

"How's he coming?" Ross asked me.

"I'm in trouble," I replied slowly.

"What?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, not taking my eyes off my husband. I was inappropriately turned on by his show of authority. "He's…um…just about got him."

"_**You've got five minutes to tell me what happened," **_he declared in a firm voice.

Antonio was tongue-tied, equally mesmerized by the imposing figure in front of him. Bobby dialed it back a notch and slowly reeled him in.

"_**If you tell me the truth in the next five minutes," **_he continued._** "I can probably convince the DA that there were exigent circumstances. Do you know what that means?"**_

Antonio shook his head.

"_**It means that you might be out of prison in time to see Dylan graduate from college."**_

Antonio sat up straighter in his chair, and his attorney put a hand on his arm, but Antonio brushed it off and watched Bobby expectantly.

"_**If you make me wait…if you play games with me, or tell me lies, then all bets are off. What's it going to be?"**_

Oh, I was so dead.

It didn't even take him the full ten minutes.

Antonio was right on the ledge, getting ready to take the plunge and then Bobby let slip a few of the details that he had learned from Irene which gave Antonio the reassurance that he needed. Irene had told the truth, so she probably wanted for him to tell the truth as well.

At that point, it was all over but the crying. And there was crying. Antonio broke down like the child he was. He cried, he apologized, he expressed regret...all in the first seven minutes.

It had happened just like Irene said. Antonio filled in the blanks.

_**"What happened when you got to Carlos' office?"**_

_**"He started in on me right away. He told me that I needed to leave Irene alone and make things right with Lisa."**_

_**"What did you say?"**_

_**"I told him it wasn't his business. I'm an adult. I can do what I want. I can do who I want."**_

_**"I bet he didn't like that."**_

_**"No. But I didn't care. I love Irene."**_

_**"When did you get the papers out of the safe?"**_

_**"After..."**_

_**"After you killed him?"**_

Antonio nodded, and his lawyer looked ready to blow his top.

"_**Mr. Medina, please," **_he begged him_**. "Detective Goren, I need a minute with my client."**_

"_**No!" **_Antonio shouted._** "No, I need to tell him. I didn't mean to kill Carlos. I broke the window with the chair. He started yelling at me, but I just went to get into his desk so that I could get to the safe. He tried to stop me, and when I shoved him away, he stumbled over the chair and fell out the window."**_

_**"What did you do then?"**_

_**"I got the papers out and then I messed up some other stuff to make it look like a break-in."**_

_**"And then you went back to Irene's?"**_

_**"Yeah. She called Diego and told him what had happened."**_

I hadn't ever gotten around to asking Irene about Diego's role in all of this, so I was glad that Bobby was pushing the issue on Antonio. We would have to talk to Diego this afternoon.

_**"What did Diego tell her?"**_

_**"He told her not to worry. He said he'd make sure Dylan's dad got assigned to the case. I guess that's you, huh? Except it's not," **_he added with a smile.

_**"That's right. It's you. And you did the right thing by him today. You told the truth. I'll tell the DA that you cooperated," **_Bobby assured him.

"Was there a possibility that Goren was that boy's father?" Ross asked me in surprise.

Okay, so we'd left out that one little tidbit during all of our updates.

"No, sir. That was just a fabrication that Irene told people so that she could hide the father's real identity."

"But so it…"

"No," I said again. "He didn't know she was telling that story, so he couldn't defend himself."

Ross nodded thoughtfully.

_Just let it go_, I begged silently. Thankfully, he did.

"Okay, so you're two for two this morning. Take a break and get some lunch, and then talk to Diego. His role in the murder seems fairly minor, but I don't want either of you dropping those assault charges."

"There's no chance of that," I assured him.

Ross and I met Bobby out in the hall.

"Excellent work, Detectives. Both of you. You can get Diego's corroborating statement this afternoon and maybe wrap this thing up by quitting time."

"If all goes as planned," I remarked. I wasn't used to such lavish praise from Ross and it was making me a little uncomfortable. I was ready to get out of the office for an hour or so.

"You ready for lunch?" Bobby asked. He was reading my mind.

Twenty minutes later, we were seated in the diner down the street.

"I think maybe my watch has stopped," Bobby commented after we'd placed our order.

"Really?" I asked as I grabbed his right hand and pulled it across the table so that I could look at his watch.

It was fairly new, and it wasn't cheap, so it should be running just fine.

"Or it's slow or something," he continued. "I don't know, but somehow it says that I was only in the interrogation room for seven minutes before Antonio confessed."

He broke into a smile as I pushed his hand back across the table in mock irritation.

"I knew you'd get him," I admitted, matching his grin. "You're the best."

"Second best, maybe," he replied as he picked my hand up and kissed the knuckles before lacing his fingers through mine. "If you were so sure that I was going to get him to talk, why did you suggest double or nothing?"

"Um…it's better to give than to receive?" I quipped. He barked out a laugh and then leaned across the table and spoke in a low voice.

"How are we going to work this _double_ aspect? We didn't really outline that part."

"Do you always need to have things mapped out for you?"

"I'm just thinking that maybe the location can be part of the terms," he suggested.

My mind ran rampant at the possibilities.

He knew my propensity for adventure and I was quite familiar with his love of creativity.

We were both in trouble.

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Logan POV**

* * *

I was right on time getting to the restaurant, but Carolyn was already there.

It wasn't our usual hangout, but it was close to home so we thought we'd give it a try. The Gorens were supposed to be meeting us since they'd finished up the Medina case.

"Hey, babe," I said as I sat down next to her in the booth. I kissed her on the cheek, but it wasn't enough. I put my hand on her chin and turned her towards me so that I could properly kiss her hello. Then I settled back against the seat and put my arm around her shoulders. She'd already ordered my drink and it was on the table, so I picked it up and took a sip.

"So, how were the fibbies?" I asked her. She'd spent the afternoon at the FBI's New York field office helping them finalize a profile.

They were a consistent client and it was good money. Whenever their agents were spread too thin, they would subcontract out things like profiling or case analysis to former agents in good standing.

Carolyn's stint in Columbia had turned her into a former agent in _very_ good standing.

They loved her nearly as much as she hated them.

"Typically anal," she replied drolly. "I don't know how I survived working for them on a regular basis. But I finished the profile, so we can send them a bill."

"Good. I took care of that consult for Nassau County," I told her. "How'd you manage to bring them in anyway?"

"The DA there hates us, but not the cops," she replied evenly. "I worked a couple of jobs for their cold case department last summer, so we're in their good graces."

I nodded thoughtfully and checked my watch. It was a couple of minutes after seven.

"Any word from Bruce Wayne?" I asked as I looked around the restaurant. Carolyn chuckled at me and picked up her glass.

"You know he's going to kick your ass if he hears you call him that."

"Hey, if he can use it for his alias, then it's fair game," I countered.

When we'd all been staying at the Roosevelt a couple of weeks ago, I'd correctly guessed that Bruce Wayne was the name Goren had used for check in.

"Okay, go ahead. Call him that," she teased, tipping her head toward the entrance. I followed her gaze and watched as the Gorens crossed the restaurant.

"He's not the one I'm afraid of," I murmured back to her.

I'd heard about them getting jumped by Diego Medina, but I hadn't seen them since the incident. Goren looked rough, but he seemed in good spirits. He and Alex were deep in conversation as they weaved their way through the myriad of tables.

"You're late," I told them good-naturedly.

"Yeah, well my watch isn't working quite right," Goren replied. He flashed Alex a grin and she rolled her eyes at him.

"We wanted to finish the paperwork before we left," she explained.

"Did you get it wrapped up?" Carolyn asked her.

"Uh huh," Goren replied as he signaled to the waitress. She came over and took their drink order and then he looked back at us. "That may have been our last case, too. I don't know if Ross will give us another one considering next week is our last week."

"Sure he will," I said. "You solved this one in four days. You can knock off two more killers between now and next Friday."

"Did I tell you he invited us to dinner?" Alex asked. "Saturday night with him and Liz."

"Even after you punched him? Wow," I laughed.

"Oh, that just sounds…painful," Carolyn added. "Have fun."

"You guys could come."

"Oh no. Uh uh. You're not roping us into that little venture. I'm sure it's a going-away kind of thing, right?"

"I guess," Goren said. It was obvious that he was less than thrilled.

"It won't be bad. Liz will be there to referee. And besides, he was actually pretty decent to us today. And yesterday, really."

"Two days in a row. That must be some kind of record."

"So the case is done? Does that mean that Irene came clean?" Carolyn asked. Goren nodded.

"You should've seen Alex. She played her perfectly."

"You did the interrogation?" Carolyn asked her. The two women exchanged some kind of unspoken sentiment that was over my head. _Must be a girl thing_.

"I took a gamble and it worked," she deflected with a shrug. "And then Bobby got Antonio to fess up in less than ten minutes. Although it sounds like it was more of an accident than anything, so he'll probably plead out to manslaughter."

"What about Diego? You got him, too?"

"There wasn't much to get him with. He will be charged as an accessory after the fact, but I'm sure the DA will cut him a deal. He'll get some time for the assault charges, though. Maybe a year or two."

"Yeah, I noticed you look pretty banged up," I said with a nod to Goren. "Did you forget to take Alex with you?"

"Ha ha," he replied with a smile. "She _was _with me. And she broke three of his ribs getting him off of me."

"I don't know what he was thinking," Alex spoke up. "That we'd quit working the case?"

"Yeah, well it doesn't sound like brains ran in the family. Carlos may have been the only one to get any."

"What's going to happen with the kid?" Carolyn asked. The Gorens looked at each other for a moment before Alex spoke up.

"I think Irene's mom will be given custody. She's really the best option. Antonio's wife is…well, not really very maternal."

"Poor kid," I remarked. I felt bad for him. He was going to have two parents in jail and eventually he would do the math on the age difference between himself and his father. He was going to have a lot of questions one of these days and it would probably be sooner rather than later.

"Oh, hey," Carolyn said suddenly. "Guess who sent Mike a text today."

I rolled my eyes at her and shook my head.

"I wasn't going to tell them about that just yet," I mumbled to her.

"Tell us what?" Goren asked. "Who sent you a text?"

I didn't find the humor in it that she did. Or maybe her reaction was just a way to cover up the fact that it pissed her off, too. I'm not sure.

I pulled out my phone and found the right message and then set it on the table. Alex picked it up immediately.

"You have got to be kidding me," she commented when she saw the number. "Rhonda?"

She and Carolyn exchanged another look and I decided that maybe the next time they went on a girls' night that I was going to bug my wife's purse. I would love to know what they talked about.

"Uh huh," Carolyn nodded.

And then Alex read the message out loud. In an attempt to avoid mortification, I picked up my drink and drained it, hoping to block out her voice. No such luck.

_**I've missed you. Does it keep you up at night, wondering where I am? I hope so. It keeps me up at night, thinking about you and your big…**_

Mercifully, Alex broke off reading aloud, although it was only because she started laughing too hard to finish.

"It's not _that_ funny," I insisted, although I had to admit that if it had been sent to anyone but me I'd probably be laughing my ass off.

"I'm sorry. It's just _really_ not what I was expecting. I should've read it in my head first," she said, still chuckling.

"You got this today?" Goren asked me. At least he was staying professional. I glared at Alex for a moment as she struggled to get herself under control.

Of course, I didn't blame her. It was odd enough that this fugitive kept sending me text messages, but then to get one like this where she blatantly describes the proportions of my equipment followed by specific things she wanted me to do with said equipment.

See why I wasn't going to mention the text?

"Did you check with the cell company? Maybe we can find out what tower the message came through."

I was trying to be serious, but watching Alex try to school her features to keep from smiling finally broke me. I grinned at her and shook my head.

"I know. It's funny. It's just a little embarrassing, okay?" I admitted.

"I'm sorry, Mike," she said again. "It's been kind of a stressing week, and I guess I had to let it out somehow."

"Glad I could be of help," I told her.

"And yeah," I continued in answer to Goren's suggestion. "I actually called Ross today. The file went to the cold case department two months ago, so he was going to pass along the information. He also said that he would see what he could do about getting authorization to contract us to work on it."

"Ross offered to be helpful?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, I know. It kind of blows your mind a little, doesn't it?"

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

After a relaxing dinner with Mike and Carolyn, Alex and I walked home. We'd parked the SUV near the apartment earlier and then walked to the restaurant. It was easier that way considering the restaurant was only three blocks away.

"I couldn't believe that text message," Alex said as we crossed the street. "Who says stuff like that?"

"I can remember a few that you've sent me…"

"I mean who does that to someone they're not presently dating," she clarified, nudging me with her shoulder as we walked along.

"She's just trying to get under his skin. And probably trying to cause trouble for him. Carolyn seemed amused by it but I'm not sure most women would take it so well."

"That's true," she agreed. "The way it was written almost made it seem like she was replying to something that he'd sent."

"That's what I thought."

"Does that mean that she knows he's with someone?"

I hadn't really considered that. Was she back in New York?

"I don't know, but it's a good question."

"You don't think she had anything to do with their door getting shot up, do you?"

"Another good question. I hope Ross approves for them to take over the case. It needs to get someone's full attention."

We went into our building and I went to push the button for the elevator but Alex pulled me toward the stairs.

"Come on. I'd rather walk," she insisted demurely.

"Four flights? I was hoping maybe you'd save your energy for something else," I told her, although I willingly went with her into the stairwell.

"I don't know. I figured as old as you are that maybe you'd need a night off," she teased.

"Yeah, you weren't calling me old last night. In fact, I seem to remember you screaming my name loud enough to disturb the neighbors."

She trotted up the stairs ahead of me, but I wasn't in any hurry to catch her. I liked the view from below just fine.

But then she passed the door for the fourth floor and kept on going.

"Alex?"

"Come on."

I know I've said it, but it's true. I would follow her absolutely anywhere.

Four additional flights later, we stepped out onto the roof.

"What do you think?" she asked me.

"I didn't even know this was up here," I admitted.

It was a rooftop garden. There were plants and small trees in pots and pathways made from white rocks. "It's beautiful. How did you find it?"

"I met one of the neighbors this morning when I grabbed the paper," she told me.

I quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Not _that_ neighbor," she said with a smile. "At least, I don't think so. Oh my God, I didn't even consider that!"

I chuckled at how quickly she got embarrassed by the thought. I waited patiently for her to continue.

"Anyway, she told me about it. She said that it gets crowded some times during the summer, but that in the wintertime there was hardly ever anyone up here."

"Hardly ever anyone?" I repeated, stepping closer to her.

"That's what she said."

I ran my hands up and down her arms and I felt her shiver.

"Are you cold?"

She shook her head no, but I opened my coat to her anyway. She stepped up close and I pulled the fabric around her, sealing her tightly up against me.

"So, you want to settle up on that bet?" she asked me as she ran her hands down my back and settled them on my butt.

"Not tonight."

"I thought that was the deal."

"It was. But I won, so I can change my mind."

"No you can't. It doesn't work like that."

"You agreed that the venue would be part of it, right?"

"Yeah," she replied cautiously. I knew her mind was working at warp speed trying to come up with where I was going, but I knew she'd never figure it out because I'd only just thought of it myself.

"So I decided on a venue. But it can't be tonight."

"Okay…"

"Saturday night."

"Saturday? But that's when we're…oh no. Uh uh."

"A bet's a bet."

TBC...

_**Ti auguro un buon fine settimana - a presto! (Lunedi) :)**_


	20. Chapter 20

**Alex POV**

* * *

We'd spent Friday doing paperwork. We hadn't picked up another case and if we could make it through the weekend without a body turning up then there was a good chance the Medina case would be our last with MCS.

It was kind of fitting that our last one turned out to be so personal, but I was grateful that it had a good ending. Well, as good as it was going to get anyway.

Considering that our day was spent doing busy work, my mind wandered quite a bit. I couldn't keep from thinking about our bet.

Bobby wouldn't tell me what he had in mind for tomorrow night and it was driving me crazy. He knew it, too, so he kept dropping inane hints just to keep it foremost in my mind.

He was drawing this thing out so much that I felt like I was in a constant state of arousal. This was a side of me with which I was previously unfamiliar. Before Bobby, I mean.

He just had a knack for…helping me reach my full potential. He was like a drug. The more I had him, the more I wanted him.

So after a full day of staring at him across our desks while we filled out mundane HR paperwork for our pending departure, I was fit to be tied. Literally.

"What do you want to do tonight?" Bobby asked me as the small hand on the clock finally hit five. I raised an eyebrow at him and flicked my eyes quickly downward and then back to his. He started laughing quietly.

"I meant for dinner," he said.

"I know."

"Alex…"

I leaned across the desk to talk softly to him. I certainly didn't need anyone else overhearing our conversation.

"You're doing this to me on purpose, so don't get upset with me when it works."

"Doing what?"

"You know what."

And he did. He flashed me a quick smile, but then went back to his paperwork, feigning innocence.

"Doesn't it make it more fun?" he asked without looking at me. "You know, the anticipation?"

It did. He knows me well enough to know what gets me hot.

"Are you ready to get out of here?" I asked him. It was after quitting time. We could go any time we wanted. And I wanted now.

-------

We stood on the front porch and rang the bell. It was Liz's place and I had been surprised to learn that the two of them had chosen her place over his. After all, this was where he'd been shot a few months ago.

"I like the dress," Bobby whispered as we waited for them to come to the door.

"No teasing here," I admonished. "Not at our captain's house."

"We're not on the clock," he replied, giving me a meaningful, lingering look.

"Bobby…"

The man was a machine. We'd been together last night, and again this morning before shopping for furniture, and here he was giving me that _look_ again.

But we had to be professional here. I knew it. And he knew it. But I had a feeling he was going to tease me every chance he got.

"Alex! Bobby!" It was Ross, and I was taken aback by the oddly enthusiastic and uncharacteristically personal greeting. "Come in. Let me get your coats."

We gave him our jackets and then followed him into the kitchen where Liz was pulling something out of the oven.

"Danny, get the detectives something to drink," she told him as she closed the oven door.

"Liz, it smells great," I told her. "I didn't know you cooked."

"I don't usually have the time, but I enjoy it," she admitted.

"Can I help with anything?"

Ross' phone rang, so he excused himself into the other room.

"Actually, I think it's all ready, but if you'll give me just a minute…help yourselves to some wine," Liz said.

She slipped out of the kitchen, leaving me and Bobby alone.

"How long do you think Ross will be on the phone?" he asked in a low voice as he approached me.

"Why?" I was a little concerned by the predatory look on his face.

"Because I think you owe me…"

He stood in front of me and put his hands on my legs, running them up underneath the filmy material of my dress. I sucked in a breath when he moved his hands around me, grabbing onto my ass and pulling me tightly up against him. Up against the firm evidence of his arousal.

"You know we're not doing anything here," I whispered.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" he growled. His hands continued to roam, easing underneath the silk of my panties so that he was touching bare skin.

"Bobby," I argued, although I didn't back away. I knew this was wrong. Liz or Ross was going to walk in any minute to find him assaulting me up against their kitchen counter.

"You disappoint me, Alex," he said. "Don't you trust me?"

"Trust you?" I asked in confusion. What did trust have to do with it? "Of course I trust you."

"Logan's on the phone with Ross. He'll keep him tied up for at least ten minutes."

With that, he took a firm grip on my butt and picked me up. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

"I can be quick," he continued. "Can you?"

He turned around and with one hand, swept the dishes off the table before laying me onto the tablecloth.

Glass shattered as the dishes hit the floor, but he pretended not to notice. I kept waiting for Liz or Ross to come running back into the room.

"Alex…"

"We can't do this," I insisted.

"Alex!"

I opened my eyes and found Bobby watching me with concern. We were in our bed.

_Why in the world would I dream about having sex at Ross' house_?

And why would I imagine Bobby being so forceful? He was never like that.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "Weird dream."

"What can't we do?" he asked me as he settled back against the pillows and pulled me against him.

"I…we…you wanted to have sex," I admitted.

"The nerve of me," he teased quietly. He was stroking my hair and as I started to relax, I realized just how tense I'd been.

"At Liz's house. With her and Ross in the other room."

"Oh," he replied in understanding. "You know, Jung would say that having a dream like that means you're holding back your sexual desires. You're somewhat inhibited and repressed."

I looked up at him in disbelief.

"Okay, and Jung would be full of shit in this case," he laughed. "I'm thinking maybe I've been teasing you too much about this bet thing."

"I guess it has been on my mind."

"We can just let it go," he told me quickly. "It was supposed to be fun. It wasn't supposed to stress you out."

"We don't have to let it go," I assured him. "Just because it was on my mind doesn't mean I'm stressed about it."

"Okay. You know I would never do something like that," he said quietly.

"I know," I agreed.

"And even if I wanted to, if you didn't want to…"

"I know."

"So, tomorrow night…_after_ dinner at Ross'…"

I smiled at him and ran my hands across his chest.

"That sounds good," I told him.

I slept dreamlessly the rest of the night, and then we spent Saturday shopping for furniture. The day was successful and by the time we left the apartment to go to Ross' place, we had a sofa, a recliner, and a kitchen table.

"Three new places to christen," Bobby teased me as we headed for the SUV.

But despite his tease, he was on his best behavior. I knew he would be, so I was still baffled as to the cause of my dream. _Was I sexually repressed_?

As though Bobby was reading my mind, he spoke up.

"You know, your dream last night could also just be a reassertion of your claim on me. This whole mess with Irene…I know it caused some insecurity, and us having sex some place public could just indicate your desire to let the world know that I'm taken."

"I think I like that interpretation better," I told him. And then I smiled and added, "Although maybe I could just pee on your leg."

"You think that would work?" he joked back as I parked the car.

Liz and Ross were actually living at Ross' place, so that was different from my dream.

But I was still wearing a dress. I wasn't going to let my subconscious dictate my wardrobe. I didn't get to wear dresses very often to work, because let's face it – it wasn't very practical. It was tough enough chasing after a suspect in heeled boots, much less in a dress.

But I enjoyed dressing nicely in my downtime and this seemed like an appropriate occasion.

I got out of the SUV and walked around front where Bobby was waiting for me. He took my hand and kissed the knuckles slowly before letting it go again.

"You look beautiful," he told me sincerely.

"Thank you," I replied as I straightened his tie. "So do you."

"Beautiful?"

"Handsome. Dashing. Gorgeous," I amended. And then I dropped my voice and added, "Sexy. Irresistible…want me to keep going?"

"I get the idea. And don't worry. I won't ravish you in our boss' house. I'll wait until we get back to our place."

He chuckled lightly as we walked up to the front porch.

It was an off-duty event, but we still slipped easily into professional mode. Our boss was our boss no matter where we were.

And even though he was almost a former boss, that didn't change the etiquette.

"Detectives," Ross greeted pleasantly when he opened the door. "Thank you for coming."

I was glad that reality differed from my dream already, although it was going to make for interesting conversation if he insisted on calling both of us _detective_ all night.

"Thank you for having us," I replied politely. He gestured us into the living room where Liz was waiting.

"Alex, Bobby…you haven't been by the morgue in what…four days? That has to be a record."

"I think it is," Bobby answered. He accepted the drink she offered him and then he sat down on the couch. I declined the bourbon and sat down next to Bobby.

"Danny has some business to go over with you two. I'll go check on dinner."

Liz and Ross exchanged a look that I couldn't decipher before she headed off to the kitchen.

**

* * *

**

Rodgers POV

All I wanted was to get through the evening without anyone getting killed.

Outside of our house or inside.

Danny seemed to run hot and cold when it came to the Gorens and I was having trouble trusting him to be on his best behavior.

As for other dead bodies…well, I wasn't on call but that didn't mean I wouldn't _get_ called. It was the downside to being one of the best.

"What can I do?" Danny asked me as he came into the kitchen. The Gorens were due to arrive any minute.

"Have a drink," I told him smartly. I gave a pointed look to the bottle of bourbon sitting on the counter and then continued chopping vegetables.

"I had a drink."

"Have another one."

"Liz, I'm fine. I promise to be nice."

"It shouldn't have to be a promise that you make. It should come naturally. They're coming over so that you can show your appreciation. How many cases have they cleared since you took over Major Case?"

"I know," he mumbled. "I…um…got a call from the pro-temp chief today."

"Deputy Chief Akers?"

"Yeah. He's taking over Moran's duties until the commissioner can find a permanent replacement."

"What did he want?"

"He wants me to ask them to stay."

"You already did, didn't you?" I asked him. I knew he could ask them until the cows came home. They were done with MCS.

Danny sighed heavily and poured himself another drink.

"I did. But Akers said to see if they'll stay three more years. Work out the time Eames needs for retirement. He said they could stay as partners."

"The brass wants to make sure that Bobby doesn't press the issue about Moran having a vendetta against him. They want to buy his silence."

"So to speak. I don't think Goren was going to push it anyway."

"No, he has too much class for that," I replied simply. I added the vegetables to the roaster and stuck the whole thing in the oven.

"Moran's going to jail. That's enough. Goren knows if he pushes and it comes out in the press how Moran was gunning for him, then it'll open the door for every criminal arrested during Moran's reign to question the validity of the arrest."

"But Akers wants more than Bobby's word. He wants to have leverage, right?"

"He'll make a great chief one day," Danny said sarcastically.

"So you're going to ask them tonight?"

"Akers was pretty specific. He wants me to do and say whatever is necessary to get them to stay."

"What are you more afraid of? That they'll take the offer or that they won't?"

"Why would I be afraid of them to take it?"

"You're ready to be done with them," I stated. Danny rolled his eyes at me.

"They filled out their HR paperwork yesterday."

"Okay…"

"So they spent the whole day at their desks," he whined. "Looking at each other or laughing, but they hardly ever said a word."

Now I had to laugh.

"And you spent the whole day watching them?"

"I…no," he denied. "I…"

"Just say it Danny. Get it off your chest before they show up and I make you play nice."

"I think they're happy to be leaving. If I offer them this deal, they might stay. And I would love for them to stay, but it seems to me that they'll be happier _not_."

"You're looking out for their best interest," I said in surprise.

He sighed again and looked slightly embarrassed. Then he tossed back the rest of the bourbon and set his glass down on the counter.

"If they don't stay, Akers will make it tough on me," he replied with a shrug. "If they do, it'll be tough on them. He won't let them forget that he bent the rules for them."

"And you're thinking…" I encouraged, silently praying that he would do the right thing.

"I'm thinking I've sold them out often enough. This time, it's my turn."

I finished wiping off the countertop and set the dishrag in the sink before walking over to where he stood.

"You're a good man, Danny," I told him quietly.

I gave him a kiss as the doorbell rang. He tried to pull me in closer, ignoring the bell, but I slipped out of his arms and sent him to answer the door.

TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Ross' offer took me by surprise.

We could keep working for the department as partners?

My first response to that was no.

If the offer had been made even just a few weeks ago, I may feel differently about it, but I had things straight in my head now.

I was perfectly happy to leave MCS.

Not only that, but we'd committed to Logan and Carolyn. They'd gotten rid of her smaller office so that there would be room for all four of us. They'd been drumming up business and had clients waiting in the wings for our start date.

But the flip side of that? Three years and Alex could have her retirement.

She would have a full pension instead of the prorated one that she qualified for now. It felt to me like maybe that would be a more prestigious end to her career rather than walking out early.

So for Alex, I held my tongue and tried to remain impartial.

I listened as Ross outlined Akers' proposal. He would tear up our paperwork. We would stay on at MCS for three years as partners. We could have our pick of cases.

And if the first part of the proposition didn't have me suspicious, then without a doubt the last part would've sounded the alarm.

_Our pick of cases_?

That was unheard of. Distributing the caseload, assigning the best-suited detectives to a case when available…that was Ross' job.

Akers wanted leverage on us. He was afraid that we might cause trouble for the department if we talked publicly about what had happened with Moran.

"Captain, with all due respect, I'm a little suspicious about the offer," Alex remarked.

_On the same page, as usual_, I thought with a smile.

"As well you should be," Ross replied. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

"Akers is putting pressure on you to talk us into it, isn't he?" I asked him.

"Obviously for good reason," he said with a cynical grin. "You know how to read between the lines with the best of them."

"How much trouble are you going to be in if we decline?" Alex asked him.

"I'm not worried about that. Politics aside, you two need to do what's best for you."

"We'd like to take some time to discuss it," I said. I wasn't going to speak for Alex. I felt her hand brush my leg, but it was only fleeting, just a means of getting my attention.

"Bobby," she said quietly.

I'd been avoiding looking at her because I didn't want to project my wishes onto her. I knew she could take one look at my face and know what I was thinking.

She was worried, up until as recently as last week in St. Thomas, that I would regret leaving the department.

If they were offering to let us stay as partners, she would do it if she thought I wanted to.

And of course, I would do it if I thought she wanted to.

If we weren't careful, we'd end up like the damn O'Henry story.

But I looked at her and she looked at me and I realized that I had worried for nothing. We were of one mind.

"We don't need to take any time," she corrected. I nodded slightly and so did she, maintaining our visual connection. "We're not interested in staying on with the department."

"Are you sure?"

"We're sure," I said. I finally broke our gaze and looked back at Ross. "If there weren't strings, we may have entertained the possibility, but to be honest, we've already made commitments elsewhere. And I think we've both made our peace with it."

"That's right," she agreed. "But again, I'm wondering what the cost will be for you."

"I probably won't get invited to the Commissioner's Ball this year," he replied sarcastically.

"That's no loss," Liz commented as she came into the room. "Those things are a snooze fest anyway."

"So he's seriously putting the screws to you to get us to come back?" I asked.

"He recommended that I use any means necessary. Although I don't think for a second that he expected you to decline."

"I guess he doesn't know us very well," Alex said.

With that, Ross let the topic drop and Liz waved us all into the kitchen.

Dinner went better than I'd expected.

Ross seemed almost normal, and his reluctance to follow Akers' orders and try to entice us to stay with MCS really gave me a newfound respect for him.

I had thought that he was all about the book, but maybe he was learning to follow his own code of ethics rather than someone else's. I could have taught him that lesson a long time ago, but I guess each person has to get there at their own pace.

"So did you guys find a new place?" Liz asked.

"We did. My dad found it for us, actually. It's in Brooklyn."

"We just got some furniture today, so it's starting to shape up," I added.

"You've been living there without furniture?" Ross asked.

I shrugged. I wasn't going to mention that we had a bed. Somehow I knew that would earn me a kick from Alex, even though I would only be stating the facts.

"So, Brooklyn," Liz said. "Is it anywhere near Logan?"

"Somewhat. It's about ten blocks away from them."

"That'll be nice for when you start working together. I take it the business is going well?"

"Carolyn has a lot of connections," I answered. "The FBI loves her."

"As long as you use her for your PR instead of Logan, you guys should be fine," Liz teased.

"Mike's not good with public relations, but he was with the force for a long time, so he knows quite a few people, too. He's been able to bring in several clients already," Alex spoke up in Logan's defense.

Not that Liz was seriously insulting him, because I know for a fact that Rodgers thinks very highly of Logan.

But I've also noticed that Alex always takes up for Mike. Unless he's teasing her. Then she gives him hell.

"When do you start working with them?" Ross asked.

"A week from Monday. We were going to take time off for a honeymoon, but since we were able to get that in last week, we'll just start right away," I replied.

"Yes, and thank you for that," Alex added. "We really appreciate the time off. You'll probably take some heat for that, too, won't you?"

"I have a feeling I'm going to be the department whipping boy for awhile."

"Well, let me know if you need any pointers on that," I said. Ross looked shocked that I'd made a joke about it, but Liz and Alex started laughing.

After his stun passed, he managed a light chuckle.

"I think I probably had that one coming," he admitted.

"I didn't mean…"

"It's fine, Goren. Really," he insisted with a wave of his hand. And he seemed sincere, so I let it go. Aside from that, he'd called me Goren instead of reverting to _detective_, so all seemed well.

"Oh, I looked into that Rhonda Hagen case," he said after a minute. "They're going to send it back to Major Case."

"A cold case file is coming back to us even though there aren't any new murders?" Alex asked him.

"I requested it. It was your case originally. You and Goren can work it this week. I'm sure Logan will want to stick his nose in it, too, since he's the one getting the pornographic text messages."

"Pornographic texts?" Liz asked, nearly choking on her drink.

"Oh, the captain didn't tell you about that?" Alex asked with a smirk.

_Don't say it, Alex_, I silently begged.

I wasn't sure if I could handle those words coming out of her mouth in the presence of our boss. Which was silly, really.

I'd heard her say far worse things during the course of previous investigations, but for some reason…and maybe it was the fact that I now had carnal knowledge of exactly how well she could use that mouth…I'm not sure. But whatever the cause, it was difficult for me to remain detached when she started talking dirty.

"I'm sure Liz doesn't want to hear it," Ross said, cutting Alex off before she could say anything.

"I'm sure Liz does," Rodgers countered with a smile. "This is the woman who killed the old man with carbon monoxide poisoning, right? And then got his son to dump him in the river?"

"That's right," Alex confirmed. "When we went to arrest her, she had taken off. She sends Logan a random text every month or so. This latest was especially descriptive."

"I think she's going to come back soon, if she's not back already," I said. "She's going to reach out to him. She's escalating in her need to get his attention."

"Yeah, I'd say this last one got his attention," Alex added. "I don't remember the last time I saw him look so embarrassed."

"Logan? Embarrassed? Okay, now you have to tell me," Liz said.

I was saved from hearing the recount by my ringing phone.

"Excuse me for just a minute," I said and then I got up from the table and stepped back into the living room. I didn't recognize the number on the display, but I answered it anyway.

"Goren."

"Bobby? It's Irene. I can't find Dylan."

"Can't find him? What do you mean? Where are you?"

"My mom posted bail for me today. I got out and came back to her house with her. Dylan was here all evening. We had dinner an hour ago, and then he went up to his room. I just checked on him and he's not there."

I wasn't sure why she had called me, although I guess the rest of her support system was still in jail.

"Can you come?" she asked me. "I'm really scared. I think he overheard me and my mother talking about what was going on…please, Bobby. I need you."

I closed my eyes while my brain raced.

Would the boy have really run away? Or was he just off sulking somewhere?

Should I bump it off to the local precinct? Did I really want to get sucked back into Irene's world?

"Please," she said again. "Bring Alex. I don't mean…I'm not trying…I just need your help. Both of you."

"Okay," I agreed. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

I hung up but didn't make a move toward the kitchen yet. I ran my hand over my face and took a deep breath.

"We'll be where?"

I turned to find Alex standing in the doorway.

"Dylan ran away. Irene called to ask…to beg for our help."

"Ran away? How long ago?"

"She last saw him an hour ago."

"Last saw who?" Ross asked as he came up behind Alex. Liz was with him, too.

"Dylan Medina. He's run away, or so that's the consensus."

"Did she check with any other family?"

"They're all in jail. Mostly anyway. The sister-in-law wouldn't have any interest in him, but we'll check her out. I think that's it."

"What about his friends?"

"She called around, but he's been on Long Island with the grandmother all week. His friends are in Murdock Woods."

"He's ten. I'm sure he can figure out public transportation," Ross said.

"This is the little boy of your murder victim?" Liz asked.

Alex nodded and went to get our coats.

"We'll come, too," Ross said. "Let's not have this case end any more tragically than it already has. Maybe we can get it resolved without calling in the locals. Otherwise, it might look bad on Irene. Even if it's not her fault, they could still revoke her bail."

I was happy to hear that Ross was so willing to help, and even more surprised when, as we were all walking out to our cars, he added,

"Hell, call Logan, too. See if he and Carolyn can help. With six of us looking, we should be able to find him in no time."

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**Logan POV**

* * *

I had talked to Goren earlier in the day, and I knew that he and Alex were going to Ross' house for dinner, so I was surprised when my phone rang at nine o'clock and it was his number on the caller id.

"Trying to escape?" I joked when I answered the phone.

"I could use your help," he said.

"Escaping?" I had been kidding, but he sounded serious.

"The Medina case, you know, with the little boy?"

As though I could forget that. My mind had latched onto that nightmare too many times in the past few days. What if a woman turned up one of these days with a kid she claimed was mine?

"Logan?"

"Yeah, sorry. I'm with you. What's up with it?"

"The boy ran away. We're headed out to Long Island to help the mother look for him. Can you guys give us a hand?"

"Give me the address. We'll meet you there."

"No, I want you two to go to Murdock Woods. That's where he lived with Irene. I'll send a picture of him to your phone."

I hung up with Goren and went to find Carolyn. She was in the living room, burning up the computer, working on another case file.

"That was Goren. The Medina boy ran away," I told her. She didn't need further explanation. She simply shut down the laptop and grabbed her coat.

"How long?" she asked as we climbed into the car.

"About an hour."

"No sign of him?"

"Goren's on the way out to Long Island. The mother checked the scene, but she's a mess and probably missed something."

As we arrived in Murdock Woods, my phone buzzed with a photo of Dylan Medina along with other pertinent details, such as Irene's address and the names of a few of his friends.

"Damn, he looks a lot like Bobby," Carolyn commented when I showed her the picture. "I can see why he believed her."

I didn't reply as I parked the truck on the street in front of Irene's house, and then grabbed a couple of flashlights from the back of the SUV.

My mind was in a bad place at the moment.

The latest text from Rhonda hadn't helped. She was a glaring reminder of my not-so-saintly past and then with this…I was starting to obsess a little.

It almost felt like I was just waiting for the phone call, the one that would tell me I had a kid out there somewhere.

"It's freezing out here," Carolyn said. "I hope he has a coat."

"Where do you want to start?"

"Let's look in his house. Irene gave permission, right?"

"She said there's a key under the mat," I told her.

I had to force myself to concentrate. I wasn't going to be any use to anyone if I couldn't get outside of my own head.

"That's original," Carolyn replied drolly.

I couldn't help but grin at her comment because it sounded exactly like something I would say.

"Uh huh. If anyone saw her arrest on the news, then she's probably already been cleaned out."

But there was no sign of any one having been in her home, neither burglars nor Dylan.

"Okay. Let's start knocking on doors."

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

We followed the Gorens out to Long Island.

I was concerned for the boy, and couldn't help thinking about my own sons. They were well past the age of ten now, but it didn't seem so long ago.

It was cold outside, and he was in an unfamiliar neighborhood. I didn't like the idea of him hanging out locally, but I didn't like the thought of him getting on the subway any better.

It was dark, and it was Saturday night. Not exactly the safest time for a child on the streets.

We parked behind the department SUV that Alex was driving and met them on the sidewalk.

"Logan and Carolyn are headed to Murdock Woods," Goren told us. "Let's take a look at Dylan's room and see what we can find."

"We'll look at the room. You two talk to Irene. Find out what she and her mother were talking about. Something set the boy off."

"Bobby!" Irene called out as she ran across the front yard. "Thank you for coming. I don't know what to do. I've looked around the neighborhood, but I just…I don't know…and…this is all my fault."

I stood back and was impressed with how deftly both Gorens handled the distraught woman.

Professional didn't cover it, although they were.

Exceptional, skilled, diplomatic, and empathetic - both of them.

There was no sign of animosity from the female Goren and no hint of discomfort or unease from the other Goren.

Together, they corralled Irene into the house, calmed her down, and got her seated at the kitchen table.

The elder Weston woman was clearly emotional as well, but she was keeping herself busy by making a pot of coffee.

"Irene, you remember Captain Ross," Goren said, gesturing toward the kitchen doorway where Liz and I stood. Irene had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but I gave her an encouraging nod.

"We're just here to help you find your son."

"And this is…this is…" Goren stuttered when it came time to introduce Liz.

I knew what his problem was. He didn't want any hint of Liz's profession to be discussed because that would set Irene into full-blown panic if she knew a medical examiner was on site.

And even if he only introduced her as Dr. Rodgers, she still may recognize the name since Liz was the one who had completed Carlos' autopsy.

"This is my wife, Liz," I interjected.

"Just an extra set of eyes," she elaborated.

"We'd like to see where Dylan stays when he's here. Mrs. Weston, would you mind showing us?"

"Of course."

"_So start from the beginning_," I heard Goren say as we followed Irene's mother up a set of stairs.

Irene began answering his question in a shaky voice.

"_Dylan went to his room after dinner, and then my mom and I started talking about what happened with Antonio…"_

"Does your grandson stay with you often, Mrs. Weston?" I asked her as she opened the door to a room at the top of the stairs.

It was decorated age-appropriately for a ten-year-old boy rather than as a typical guest room.

"At least once a week. Sometimes more if Irene has to travel for work."

"So he's familiar with the neighborhood," Liz remarked.

"He is. But he doesn't really have any friends here. He's kind of a shy boy."

I walked around the bedroom while Liz continued to question the grandmother. She would've made a good detective.

"Is there somewhere in particular that he likes to hang out when he stays with you? A tree house, or a place in the woods, or does he go to a park?"

"He rides his bike. I don't know where he goes. He's a good boy, though. He always comes home on time and he stays out of trouble."

"I'm sure he does," Liz said agreeably. A few tears began to fall from the old woman's eyes, so Liz stopped questioning her for a moment and gave her a comforting pat on the arm.

When they suspended their conversation, something became evident.

For whatever reason, the acoustics in the house allowed for me to hear the conversation in the kitchen.

"_I never told him," _Irene was saying_. "There was no point. Carlos was happy in the role as his father. He did things with him, took him places."_

Liz caught my eye and gave me a slight nod. Dylan had most definitely overheard his mother's conversation with his grandma. He would've obviously been upset about Carlos' death, but then to find out that the man wasn't truly his father…it would be upsetting news for anyone, but especially for a child.

I continued my perusal of the room, taking in the few personal touches that Dylan had added to make it feel like home.

"Dylan likes to fish?" I asked. There was a picture of Dylan and Carlos stuck in the edge of the dresser mirror. It looked like there was a fishing pole on the ground behind them.

"I guess so. He liked doing anything with Carlos. He was always a daddy's boy, but especially after the divorce. He stayed really close to Carlos."

I grabbed the photo and pulled it out.

"Do you know where this picture was taken?"

"No, but Irene probably does. I'm pretty sure she's the one who took it."

"Did he take his coat?" Liz asked her gently. The older woman nodded.

"He kept it on the back of his chair, so it's gone."

"What about his bike?" I asked.

"Uh…I'm not sure."

We hurried downstairs and into the kitchen. The clock was ticking. It had now been about two hours since Dylan was last seen.

"Irene, did you check to see if his bike was missing?"

She looked unsure, and got up from the table. I exchanged a look with Goren. We were on the same page.

If the boy had ridden his bike, he was likely still somewhat in the area.

The nearest subway station was less than a mile, and I didn't see a boy of his age leaving his bike behind. If he was going into the city or to Murdock Woods, he would've walked to Middle Country Road.

Irene went out the back door and we followed her around to the side of the house.

"It's gone," she confirmed.

"Okay, Irene. That's a good thing," Alex encouraged her. "It means he's probably still in the area. Now think for a minute. What would he consider to be a safe place, or a quiet place where he could think?"

"Or someplace that Carlos may have spent time with him?" the other Goren added. "He's missing his father right now. He would want to feel connected to him."

"I'm not sure…"

"Carlos used to take him fishing, right?" I asked. "Where did they go?"

"Um…Mt. Sinai, sometimes. Cedar Beach. There's a fishing pier there and a lot of nature trails."

The four of us rounded the house and headed for our cars. It was the most logical place to look, but it was a large area.

"Irene, wait here," Goren called back to her. "In case he comes home. If he does, just call my cell, okay?"

She nodded her accord and went back into the house. The four of us paused briefly by the cars.

"It's only about twenty minutes from here," Goren said. "It would have taken him less than an hour by bicycle."

"We need to find him quickly," Liz spoke up. "It's dropping down into the teens tonight. He's already been out here nearly two hours. I'm sure he's not dressed for this kind of weather."

"You two head to the park," I directed. "We'll stop by the subway station just to be sure. Then we'll come out and help you search. If there's no sign of his bike at the subway, I'll call Logan and have them come out here, too."

"Yes sir," Goren replied quickly, and then he and Alex got into their truck.

"What do you think?" Liz asked me as we sped toward the subway station.

"I think he's at the park. But we have to be sure."

"You sent them on the best lead while you're crossing the T's."

"It's their case. I'm just helping," I deflected.

"I knew they were good," she mused as I screeched to a stop at yet another stop sign. "But the way they worked together to handle that woman…It was really something else. And yet they're not arrogant. They still followed your directives immediately. It makes me wonder why you guys ever had issues."

"He's changed," I said immediately, somewhat defensively. But then I relaxed. I knew what Liz meant. "Being with Alex has been good for him. She's changed, too. It's like they've both brought out the best qualities in each other."

"And healed each other's wounds," she added. "So it's all them?"

"No," I admitted. "I've changed. I've realized what an asset they are."

"Damn shame it took you so long."

"Thanks, Liz," I replied dryly, but I gave her a smile.

She always spoke the truth no matter what, and as much as it drove me crazy from time to time, it was one of the qualities that I loved most about her.

By this time, I had pulled up outside the subway steps. There was a bike rack, and we hopped out of the car to look at the few bikes that were parked there. None matched Irene's description.

"He wouldn't have carried it down the stairs."

"No. My money says he's at the park."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

"Logan," I answered sharply when my phone rang. My fingers were numb and I had lost feeling in my ears about thirty minutes ago.

Carolyn and I had been walking up and down the streets of the Medina's neighborhood, knocking on doors and looking in backyards.

"It's Ross. We think we've narrowed the search area. How long will it take you to get to Mt. Sinai?"

"An hour and a half at least. Unless I use my siren. Then no more than an hour."

I was serious about the siren, but if he jumped on me about still having one, I would deny its existence.

"Use it. Get your asses over here."

"Let's go," I told Carolyn after I hung up with Ross.

We trotted back to the car and once inside, I started it up and cranked the heat.

"They'll probably find him by the time we get there," Carolyn said.

"I hope so. We've only been out there half the time and we're both frozen."

I pulled the siren out from under the seat and slapped it on top of the car. I loved driving with that thing on, and despite the gravity of the situation, I had to smile a little as I weaved in and out of traffic and blew through lights.

"Don't kill us on the way over there," Carolyn remarked in a calm voice that belied her words. She had a tight grip on the door handle which was the only sign that I was ruffling her feathers a little.

"You trust me," I stated.

"I trust _you_. Your driving, not so much."

"Ha ha. I haven't had an accident since…I don't know when. Never. Not while driving with a siren on anyway."

"So talk," she said after a minute of silence. Well, we weren't really in silence, but the blaring of the siren turned into background noise after awhile.

"About…"

"About why this thing has you so freaked out."

"What thing?" I asked in denial. I knew what she was talking about, and I knew it was usually a good idea to share everything with her, but at the same time, I really _really _didn't want to talk about it.

"Don't do that," she said evenly.

"Do what?"

"Don't play dumb. You're anything but. If you don't want to talk about it, just say it."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure? Because it's normal, you know."

"What's normal?"

"That Bobby's predicament would make you think about your own past."

"Okay, I really hate when you do that," I said in annoyance.

I dodged a motorist who refused to move over, and then found an open lane and gunned the accelerator.

"Don't drive faster just because you're pissed at me."

"I'm not."

"Mike."

"You said I could tell you if I don't want to talk about it. _I don't want to talk about it_. Okay?"

"Okay."

She quietly sat beside me and watched out the window. I noticed that she let go of the door handle even though I still had us pegged out at nearly ninety-five.

I was being a jerk, and I knew it. But how did she always know what I was thinking? Was I that transparent?

_Maybe she just knows you, Mike. Maybe she cares enough about you to understand how your mind works._

And when had I ever _not_ felt better after talking to her?

"It's not that I think it's true," I began. "It's just that if it could happen to a guy like Goren, then the odds of it happening to me…"

"But it didn't happen to Goren. He was only falsely accused."

"That's true."

"And even if it had been true, do you think Alex would've left him?"

"No," I said in surprise. Alex would never leave him. I hadn't even considered that she would.

"So they would have worked through it together. They _did_ work through it together, and now they're able to be objective and help this little boy and his mother."

"True," I agreed again.

"So even if it did happen to you," she said. "It's not the end of the world. I'm not going anywhere. We would work through it _together_."

It was an odd conversation to have while traveling at high speed down a congested interstate, but at the same time, it was strangely comforting.

As usual, Carolyn knew what to say to put my mind at ease.

"So stop worrying about it okay? You can't go back and change anything now. If it's happened already, then…well, then it's happened."

"I know. You're right," I agreed. And then I added, "And I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For saying I hate when you read my mind. I don't hate it."

"Yes, you do," she teased. "But that's okay."

My cell phone rang, and she reached over to pull it off my belt. I didn't blame her for not wanting me to answer the phone at the moment.

"Yeah, it's Barek," she answered.

_Barek_. One of these days I was going to get her to start using _Logan_.

"We're still probably thirty minutes out…okay…okay."

She hung up and looked at me.

"Go to the house and pick up Irene. They found the boy."

TBC...


	23. Chapter 23

**Bobby POV**

* * *

It felt oddly natural working with Ross. And I was glad that he and Rodgers had come with us because that way we could split up in twos rather than have me and Alex take care of each aspect alone.

As it was, Alex and I were able to tag-team Irene to get the full story. We sat at the kitchen table with her while she told us.

"I never told anyone about Antonio, not even my mother," she said. "But after what's happened, I knew I couldn't keep it a secret anymore. I decided to tell her the truth."

"You told her about your affair with Antonio? Does she know him?"

"She knows how old he is, yes. And she knows he's married now."

"Did you two fight?"

"Me and my mother? No. She was disappointed, I could tell. But she didn't say anything. You know how mothers are," she added with a small smile.

I did and yet I didn't. Somehow I doubted my mother stories would compare.

"Yes, I do," Alex spoke up. "And they have a way of pushing buttons. Did you get upset with her? Did you raise your voice?"

She asked the question in a conspiratorial way. I was impressed once again with how well she was handling Irene.

"I may have," she admitted. "But not much. And I think only to tell her that I was an adult and could make my own decisions."

"Okay," I agreed, ready to move on. "So you told her about Antonio. Did she already know that Carlos wasn't Dylan's real father?"

"Yes. She believed that it was you, but she agreed to keep the secret."

"What about Dylan?" Alex asked her.

"I never told him. There was no point. Carlos was happy in the role as his father. He did things with him, took him places…"

"So Dylan was close to Carlos."

"Very. They had a great relationship. Dylan was devastated…to hear about…" Irene got choked up, and I could only imagine she was feeling quite a bit of guilt. She was partially to blame for Carlos' death, for taking away Dylan's father-figure.

"What kind of places did Carlos take him?" Alex asked, shifting the conversation.

"I don't know," Irene said with a sniffle. "Typical father-son kind of things. Baseball games…"

She broke off at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. We looked up to see Ross in the doorway.

"Irene, did you check to see if his bike was missing?"

I knew what Ross was thinking. If he was riding a bike, he probably hadn't gone too far. If he went to the subway station, he could've hit Port Authority and be on a bus to California by now.

Irene went out the back door and we followed her around to the side of the house.

"It's gone," she confirmed.

"Okay, Irene. That's a good thing," Alex encouraged her. "It means he's probably still in the area. Now think for a minute. What would he consider to be a safe place, or a quiet place where he could think?"

"Or someplace that Carlos may have spent time with him?" I added. "He's missing his father right now. He would want to feel connected to him."

"I'm not sure…"

"Carlos used to take him fishing, right?" Ross asked. "Where did they go?"

"Um…Mt. Sinai, sometimes. Cedar Beach. There's a fishing pier there and a lot of nature trails."

That had to be it. We ran around to the front of the house, and I called out over my shoulder.

"Irene, wait here in case he comes home. If he does, just call my cell, okay?"

The four of us met up between the cars.

"It's only about twenty minutes from here," I said. "It would have taken him less than an hour by bicycle."

"We need to find him quickly," Liz spoke up. "It's dropping down into the teens tonight. He's already been out here nearly two hours. I'm sure he's not dressed for this kind of weather."

"You two head to the park," Ross suggested. "We'll stop by the subway station just to be sure. Then we'll come out and help you search. If there's no sign of his bike at the subway, I'll call Logan and have them come out here, too."

"Yes sir," I said. Again, I was grateful for his help. I climbed into the passenger seat and wasn't even buckled by the time Alex was peeling away from the curb.

"You think he's there, don't you?" she asked me.

"It's a good lead. If he's not there, then I think we're back to square one."

"At least he had his coat. I hope it's a thick one."

"What about you?" I asked, suddenly remembering that she was in a dress. "You're going to freeze out there."

"I'll be fine, Bobby," she assured me in her no-nonsense voice. It was the tone that told me I'd be wise not to argue. I wanted to though because the material of her dress was fairly thin and her jacket was made for looks rather than warmth.

I took a breath to argue despite her warning, but then I thought about it from her perspective.

What else was she going to do? Did I expect her to sit in the car while I searched for a potentially hypothermic boy who was grieving his dead father?

"Okay," I said instead. "But if we're out for very long, I want you take a break in the car. No sense in having two people with frost bite."

She didn't reply right away and I took that as a good sign.

"I knew I shouldn't have worn a damn dress," she said finally. "Or at least I should've put pants in the car."

We squealed to an abrupt stop at the end of Harbor Beach Road and got out of the car. It was deserted at this time of night, and it felt eerily quiet.

While Alex went around to the back of the truck, I took off my overcoat and then my suit jacket. I wanted to insist that Alex wear the overcoat but I knew that it was long on me and would positively swallow her. So instead, I put the overcoat back on and held out my suit jacket to her.

"Bobby," she started to argue, shaking her head.

"Wear it," I said softly. "It'll make me happy."

She was shivering already, but I knew she'd never admit to being cold. At least the jacket would give her another layer.

She conceded without further argument and slipped her arms into the jacket and then buttoned up the front.

"Thanks," she told me as she grabbed the flashlights from the back. She handed one to me and then we headed in the direction of the fishing pier.

The wind was blowing hard off the Long Island Sound, and I could feel the damp, cold air cut straight through my wool coat. The length of my suit jacket helped Alex's dress stay down, but she still kept one hand down against it to keep the fabric from blowing up.

"Dylan!" I called out. I couldn't decide if he was more likely to hide from us or make himself seen, but it was a risk I had to take.

"There's no one on the pier," Alex stated as we stood at the edge. The decking stretched out vast and barren in front of us.

"Shit, I thought he would be here," I said in frustration.

"He's here," she insisted. "It was probably just too cold for him out there. Look," she said, pointing on the ground.

Bicycle tire tracks. They appeared somewhat fresh, and while it could've been anyone, I had to believe that there wasn't much cyclist traffic around here this time of year.

The tracks ended at the wooden planks, as though he had ridden out onto the pier. Alex and I wandered around the edge, looking to see where he had come back.

"Here!" Alex said at last. I trotted over to where she stood, and sure enough, there were more tracks.

"They're going towards the nature center."

"Oddly coincidental, huh?"

She was right. The boy was conflicted. He had just learned the identity of his real father, a man who he'd thought was his uncle. A man who worked in New York's nature centers.

We jogged back in the direction of the nature center, which was about a quarter mile from where we had parked the truck.

"Dylan!" Alex shouted.

"Alex, wait," I said, putting my hand on her arm. I pointed at a window near the front door of the building. It had been broken. His bike was lying underneath.

I felt a rush of relief. We'd found him, he was apparently safe, and he'd gotten in from the cold. It seemed like a best case scenario, although I wouldn't relax completely until I had him in my sights.

"Looks like he stood on his bike to get in," Alex commented. "He's pretty smart."

We analyzed the situation for a moment.

"Give me a boost," she said as she slipped out of my jacket. "I'll go through and then unlock the door."

The window was a little above my eye-level, and it wasn't very big, so she was right. No way in hell was I fitting through there.

I picked her up easily and held on as she tossed my jacket across the ledge, covering the broken glass. Then she reached up and got a grip on the window ledge.

"Be careful," I warned.

I looked up to check on her progress but my head was nearly covered by her dress.

"Oh, if only Ross could see us now," I mumbled.

"No peeking," she quipped.

"I would never…"

And then I felt her lift herself away and in through the window. The woman had some serious upper-body strength.

I heard her drop to the floor inside and within seconds, she unlocked the door.

"I haven't heard any sound," she commented.

We left the lights off, opting instead to use our flashlights as we methodically searched the interior of the building.

I was almost beginning to think that he'd left his bike and broken the window just to throw us off his trail. Maybe he'd heard us calling his name.

"Dylan," Alex said in relief. I quickly turned and saw the boy sitting in an office chair, looking out the window toward the sound.

"Did my mom send you?" he asked quietly. "Because I don't want to go back to her."

I glanced at Alex and she gave me a nod before stepping aside. I approached the boy slowly.

"I'm not going to make you go anywhere. Mind if I sit down?"

He shrugged, so I eased onto the edge of the desk. Alex slipped outside, presumably to call Ross.

"Are you the cops?" he asked me.

"We're police officers, yes," I admitted.

"You don't look like a cop. The woman doesn't either."

I wasn't going to argue with him about my occupation, so instead I leaned a little closer to him and used what I hoped was a soothing tone of voice.

"Your mom asked for our help because she was worried about you."

"She doesn't care about me. She's a liar."

"She did lie to you, you're right about that. But she did it because she cares. She was trying to protect you."

"What do you know?" he asked sullenly.

I still couldn't get him to look at me. I needed to make a connection with him. I didn't want to just drag him out of here and send him back home, or we'd only end up searching for him again in a few days.

"I know a lot about fathers. And mothers," I said quietly. It hadn't really hit me until this moment, but our lives were strangely similar.

"I only recently found out the identity of my real father," I continued. "My whole life, I thought it was someone else. My mother hid the truth from me."

"You're making that up."

"I wish I were," I said with a chuckle. "But it's the truth."

I waited patiently, giving him time to absorb that information.

I turned and saw Alex waiting in the doorway. I don't know how I knew she was back because she hadn't made a sound. I could just feel her presence, and it made me feel better. She encouraged me without moving or saying a word.

I looked back to Dylan and saw that he had relaxed his posture slightly.

"It's just all so messed up," he said, finally turning to look at me. "I loved my dad. Carlos. And then he was killed and…Antonio…well, he did it. He killed my father, but now I find out he _is_ my father."

"I'll tell you something that I only recently learned. And I'm a lot older than ten, so you'll be ahead of me on this one," I told him. "DNA doesn't make that much difference. You're Carlos' son because he raised you and he taught you how to ride a bike and tie your shoes and catch fish. He was a good man, and I'm sorry that he died. I'm sorry that you have to go through that. But no one is going to make you accept that Antonio is your father if you don't want to. Your relationship with him, if you have one at all, will be your choice, okay? I'll make sure of that."

And I would. I didn't have any say over what happened to the boy, but I was sure as hell going to get that point across to Irene.

Of course, Antonio would be in jail for awhile, so that helped as far as Dylan was concerned.

"Your mom," he said, turning fully now in his chair. "Did she make you meet your dad?"

"No, but I'd already met him. I just didn't know he was my father at the time."

"Are you anything like him?"

Interesting question. One I'd been battling with for quite some time. But yet I knew the answer.

"I'm nothing like him," I told him honestly.

"I don't want to be like Antonio. He's not very smart, and he cheats on his wife, and he's just…I don't like him."

_Cheats on his wife?_ I guess kids do know more than adults give them credit for. Although I wondered if he knew that Antonio was cheating with his mother. Probably not.

"You're already not like Antonio. I can tell you're smart, like Carlos."

He smiled at that and my heart broke for him.

"What about your mom?" he asked me. "Did you forgive her?"

Kids never ask the easy questions.

The truth was that she had devastated me with her deathbed admission. I didn't have the luxury of coming around to forgiveness in my own time. I had to force it from my mind and immediately forgive her, for both our sakes.

"Yes," I said finally. "She only wanted what was best for me. At the time, she felt that the truth would hurt me more than it would help me."

"But isn't it always better to tell the truth?"

"I think so," I agreed. "But your mom made a mistake. It doesn't make her a bad person, and it doesn't mean that she doesn't love you."

He thought about that for a moment, and then nodded his head slowly.

"What's going to happen to me now? My mom's going to jail."

"I think you can probably live with your grandmother, if you want. Is that what you want to do?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then," I said, standing up from the desk. "Are you ready to go back?"

"I guess," he agreed, somewhat reluctantly.

I turned and found that Ross and Rodgers were in the doorway, too. I could hear a siren in the distance, and I could only imagine that Logan was driving into the park on two wheels.

"Will you come back with me? And explain to my mom?"

"I'll come back with you while you explain to your mom," I countered. "And you need to tell her how you feel about Antonio."

"She's on her way," Alex told us as we approached the group.

"My mom?"

"Uh huh. A friend of ours went to pick her up and bring her out here. She was pretty worried about you."

"Okay," he said, and then he must have heard the siren, too, because he added, "Is that the real police?"

Which was kind of funny since of the six of us, Logan and Barek were the only two who _weren't_ real police.

"Why?" I asked him, struggling to hide my amusement.

"I broke a window to get in here. I'm sorry. I know that was wrong."

"I didn't see any broken window," Ross said quickly. Then he looked at me and Alex. "Did you guys?"

"No, sir," we said in unison. I was really starting to like Ross.

And I liked him even more when as we headed out the door, he said quietly to me,

"Take care of that window and send me the bill."

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**Alex POV**

* * *

It was nearly midnight by the time we left Irene's mother's house.

"Thank God for happy endings," Mike commented as the six of us headed for our vehicles.

"I appreciate you guys coming out," Bobby said to us. "I know it felt like you were chasing your tails…"

"We were glad to help," Carolyn said.

"I'm sorry we had to cut our dinner short," I told Liz. "We'll have to do it again some time."

"Right," she agreed with a smile. "You still owe me pictures from St. Thomas."

"You guys have pictures?" Mike asked.

I put an end to that line of questioning by saying goodnight to everyone and getting in the truck.

"You were great with that boy tonight," I told Bobby as we headed out of Long Island. "Really."

I turned to look at him briefly and saw that he had his head leaned back against the seat and his eyes were closed.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah. I'm just…relieved, I guess. Maybe a little overwhelmed. That boy…he reminded me so much of…me."

I'd thought that, too.

"You think he's going to be okay?" he asked me.

"I do. You gave him good advice. Irene, too. Hopefully she'll get a light sentence, and then she can get out and finish raising him as a single mom. In the mean time, I'm sure the grandma will get him some counseling so that he'll have someone to talk to."

"I hope so. You were great tonight, too, by the way. With Irene, and getting in that window…"

"Climbing through a window? That's going to be my claim to fame?" I teased.

I didn't want this thing to pull him into a funk. We'd come too far for that. I was glad when he sat up in the seat and turned to look at me.

"Well, you were in a dress," he added with a chuckle. "And it may be possible that I peeked a little."

"I knew you did," I replied with a smile.

"Hey, my head was completely under your dress. How was I not supposed to look?"

"If you were a gentleman…"

"I am a gentleman. I gave you my coat."

"Yes you did," I agreed. "And it's covered in glass. We'll have to shake it out and get it to the cleaners."

"You didn't get any on you, did you?"

"Glass?"

"Uh huh," he replied, loosening his seatbelt so that he could lean across the front seat. He reached down to where the top of my boot hit at my knee and ran his hand gently up my leg. "No loose shards?"

I wanted to say no, but I was afraid if I did, he would stop his gentle caress of my leg, so instead I just held my breath and waited as he thoroughly checked out every inch of my right leg and then he switched to the left.

"I think you're good," he whispered. "None on your hands?"

He picked up one hand from the steering wheel and looked it over carefully before switching up and inspecting the other hand. By this time, my entire body was buzzing from his tender assault.

"Ross is behind us," I said suddenly as I realized that their headlights would highlight the shape of our heads in the car.

And right now, Bobby's head was right next to mine because he was lightly tracing his tongue along the outside of my ear.

"Okay," he replied.

"He can see where your head is."

"Where should my head be?" he asked obtusely, and then he ran his hand underneath my dress again, along the inside of my thigh.

"On…your side…of the…car," I replied breathily.

Damn the man for getting me worked up so quickly. And I was driving. It wasn't the safest thing to be doing, and especially not with our boss behind us.

"We're married. We're on our own time. I'm not going to apologize just because he happens to be in a position to see us."

He grabbed hold of my knee and shifted my leg so that they were further apart and then resumed stroking the inside of my thigh.

"Bobby…what has gotten into you?"

"I think it's the dress," he said softly as he continued to kiss my neck. "I really like the dress."

My dress, which by this point was pooled up around my lap.

"And the boots. You need to leave the boots on later."

I had no response for him since it was taking all of my faculties to focus on the road.

"I think we have a bet to settle," he continued.

"I can't do that while I'm driving," I replied rationally.

"Maybe I'll concede the bet," he said huskily, his breath tickling my ear. "I'm a winner either way."

I was debating the likelihood of being able to keep from getting pulled over or into an accident if I allowed Bobby to…pay up…when his cell phone rang.

"When we leave MCS, I'm getting rid of this thing," he said on a sigh as he sat back up in his seat to answer his phone.

"It's probably Ross," I teased.

"Nope," he replied. "Logan."

"What?" he answered loudly, putting the phone on speaker.

"It's about time you got back on your side of the car," Mike said.

"What do you want, Logan?" I asked him.

"Hey, we're both pretty wired and thought we'd stop at Steve-O's. You guys in?"

Bobby and I looked at each other. He gave me a shrug and a nod.

"Sure," I told him. "We'll park at our place and walk up. We'll meet you there."

"I had you going, didn't I?" Bobby asked me with a grin after he hung up the phone. "You were seriously considering letting me…"

"You missed your chance," I replied easily as I grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it back down over my knees. "Maybe next time you won't answer your phone."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

Steve-O's had been my idea. I wanted to unwind. To unofficially debrief.

Basically, I wanted to make sure that everyone was _okay_.

Carolyn was probably still a little miffed at me from earlier, even though she said she wasn't.

Alex had to go a third round with the ex, Irene. Of course, I'd heard first hand from Rodgers that Alex had handled her like a pro, but still…it had to sting just a little.

And Bobby had been the one to find the boy who was amazingly his spitting image. I wondered how many times Bobby had redone the math in his head, from the time he was last with Irene until the date of Dylan's birth. Marfan's test or no, appearances alone were enough to make a guy double check his addition.

"Want to stop by for a drink before we go home?" I asked Carolyn as we drove into Brooklyn.

"Sure," she agreed. I waited for her to suggest asking the Gorens, but she didn't.

"Where do you want to go?"

"You tell me," she stated easily.

"Maybe Steve-O's?"

"Sure. But I'm not drinking vodka."

I chuckled for a minute at the memory of how blitzed she'd been the other night. Drunk and yet still intuitive. She'd come up with a key fact in the case that the rest of us had missed.

"I don't know," I teased. "We've got more cases to solve."

"What, you think I can only solve cases when I'm drunk?"

"I'm saying maybe it helps. Of course, it doesn't hurt that you work on them in the buff," I added.

"I'll do that anyway," she said suggestively. "But I'm sticking with beer. It's too soon for another hangover."

She still didn't suggest asking the Gorens, and then it hit me. She was trying _not_ to read my mind. She was going to wait for me to say it. Yeah, she was still a little off.

"You want to see if Bobby and Alex want to come?" I asked her.

"Sure."

"You know, you could've said it."

"Said what?"

"You know I was thinking that when I suggested the bar. You probably know that I'm worried about everyone and want to take some time to unwind together. You even know that I'm concerned about Alex having to talk to Irene again, and worried about Bobby having to look at himself from thirty years ago…you can say it."

"You think I was reading your mind?"

I sighed heavily. Yeah, I'd asked for this.

I'd been an ass to tell her that I hated the way she could read my mind. How many times had she saved my soul over the past year by using that exact skill? I loved that she knew me so well. Sometimes it was just a hard truth to swallow.

"I…I said I was sorry."

"You also said that you hated it," she said quietly. "You don't have to be sorry for how you feel."

"I don't hate it. It just…hit me wrong tonight. I was…frustrated, but with myself, not with you."

"Mike," she began as she reached her hand up to run her fingers through my hair. "I don't want you to alter your feelings to end an argument or to try to make me feel better. You feel what you feel. And I'm sure it's pretty damn annoying to be around someone who always thinks they know what you're thinking."

I looked at her quickly, and realized that she was smiling.

"I usually annoy the hell out of everyone. I'm amazed you can still stand to be around me," she continued. "I'll try not to be such a…know-it-all."

"You can't help it if you're a genius," I replied, glad that we were finding equal footing again. "I think you know me better than I know myself. It's a little scary sometimes, but it helps. It helps me that you know what you do but yet you're still here."

And we both knew that I was talking about so much more than just tonight. My issues ran deep and wide, but she hadn't run from them.

"Call Bobby," she said as she pulled the phone off my belt again and handed it to me. "And tell him to get back on his side of the car."

I looked up and saw what she was talking about and had to laugh. I made the call, and then hung up and found a parking place near our house.

"Let's walk," I told her.

We got out and I put my arm around her as we walked down the sidewalk.

"Guess what I'm thinking now," I said playfully.

"I have no idea," she said on a laugh.

"No, really. Guess."

"Um…you're thinking about…Bobby. You're wondering how many times he's rechecked the math in his head."

I barked out a laugh and shook my head.

"No, but that's a good one. You should've said that ten minutes ago."

"Okay…um…not Bobby then. You're thinking about Alex and you're wondering if you should invite her to the gym so you can let her use you for a punching bag because you know she'll never take out her Irene frustrations on Bobby."

By this time, I was laughing hard and she started laughing with me.

"I guess that's a no?" she asked, still chuckling.

"It's a no, but damn – you would've been dead on with that one Wednesday night!"

"Okay, so I'm reading you, but I'm a little slow," she mumbled. "Ross? Rodgers?"

"Nah, you're way cold now," I told her.

"Okay, I give up."

"Sweetheart, don't ever give up on me," I said, pulling her tighter up against me. She stopped our progress and pulled me to her. She had her back up against the side of the building.

"Mike," she said gently as she rubbed her hand along my cheek. "You got serious on me. What are you thinking?"

"I'm wondering if maybe one of these days you'll start calling yourself Logan."

"You want me to take your name?"

Her surprise threw me. She didn't know that? I mean, I guess I hadn't mentioned it, but still…

"Yeah, I want you to take my name. Hell yeah."

"I didn't think…I never really gave it much thought. I didn't know it mattered to you."

"Maybe you're not so damn smart after all," I said lightly as I leaned in and kissed her. I planned to keep it chaste, but she brought her hand around to the back of my head and deepened it nearly to the point of no return. I lost all thought of anything around me.

"Hey, why don't you two get a room!"

It was Alex, and I loved that she could throw my own words back at me. I pulled back from Carolyn with a huge grin on my face.

"Why don't you mind your own damn business?" I retorted as Alex and Bobby came up next to us on the sidewalk.

"So are you guys going to go in or are you going to stay out here all night?" Goren asked, getting in on the déjà vu.

"It's too damn cold to stand out here," I replied easily as we headed for the entrance. "Let's go inside."

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I dreamed about the boy.

Except in my dream, the boy wasn't always Dylan.

Sometimes he was me.

I was having a hard time distinguishing between the two of us. Which was silly, really, because while we had a comparable paternity issue, the similarity ended there.

He was being raised in the affluent neighborhood of Murdock Woods. I grew up in Canarsie.

His father-figure was a good man. He worked hard and treated Dylan well. My father, the one who was married to my mother…he was absent for the better part of my childhood, preferring gambling and womanizing to parenting.

Dylan's real father was going to jail. My real father had sat on death row before meeting his much-deserved demise.

His mother had lied. My mother had lied.

Okay, so maybe our lives were fairly parallel.

And it definitely explained why I woke up at five o'clock with my heart filled with horror, my body covered in sweat, and my father's voice in my head.

"_Go ahead. You have it in you! You have it in you!"_

I got out of bed and took a couple of laps around the apartment to clear my head.

I was exhausted.

Alex and I had sat at Steve-O's with Mike and Carolyn until nearly three a.m., so I hadn't been in bed asleep for much more than an hour.

I went into the kitchen and got out a glass. I turned on the faucet to fill it up, and then I ended up just sticking my whole head under the cool flow. The cold water soothed my burning skin and it seemed to kick-start my brain.

The dream was nothing new. Not the parts about my father, anyway. I'd been having them off and on since that day in the prison, although they were much more infrequent now that I'd come to terms with the truth. Alex had helped me to do that. Of course, she helped me do just about everything.

And as though thinking about her had conjured her up, I felt her hand settle on my back. I glanced to the side and saw that in her other hand she held a towel.

I shut off the water and pulled back from the faucet. I held out a hand to take the towel, but she shook her head and motioned for me to sit down at the table.

I sat down in the chair, ignoring the water that was now running in streams across my face and down my bare back and chest.

Alex stepped up close to me and began to rub my head with the towel. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation, her gentle touch doing more for me than anything else would.

"You want to talk about it?" she asked quietly. She held still for a moment, presumably waiting for my response.

"Not if it means you're going to stop doing that," I replied without opening my eyes.

I heard her chuckle lightly and then felt her lips press against my cheek before she continued to work the towel over my wet hair.

"I dreamed about Brady," I told her after another minute. "It didn't start out like that. I was dreaming about Dylan. Or maybe more just thinking about him. I guess he was on my mind as I went to sleep, and then my subconscious evolved him into me."

"I didn't ask for an analysis, Freud," she teased. She moved the towel down and began rubbing it across my chest. "Just tell me about it."

"My dad…Bill, not Brady," I clarified, although I knew Alex knew that I would never refer to Brady as _my dad_. "I was thinking about him. I have a few good memories of him, but mostly it was disappointment. I spent a lot of time as a kid _waiting_ for him. _Thinking_ he was going to show up and then he never did. _Thinking_ he was going to take me somewhere but then he never would. At least Dylan will have good memories of his father. Of Carlos. He had ten good years of memories with him."

"You have a few good memories," she said. "I remember you telling me about the day your family spent on the river."

"You remember that?" I asked, opening my eyes to look at her.

In that moment, I was struck by her beauty. Not just her physical beauty, but the sheer exquisiteness that is _Alex_.

"Of course I remember," she replied with a smile. "I remember everything about that night."

"Me, too," I admitted. I reached out and grabbed a handful of the t-shirt she wore, my t-shirt, so that I could pull her closer to me. She stepped in between my legs and then went back to massaging my now-damp hair with the towel. I let my hands rest on her waist and closed my eyes again.

"I was dreaming about some of the things that Irene told us Carlos did with Dylan, and then that turned into a few of the things my dad did with me. And then I thought about Antonio."

"Which led to you thinking about Brady," she supplied when I hesitated. I hated to even bring that name into our home.

"Yeah," I said, moving my hands around to her back. I brought her up against me and turned my cheek to rest against her chest. She let the towel drop but continued to run her fingers through my hair. "I could hear his voice in my head."

"What did he say?"

"It was that day in jail, when he told me…when he said that I have it in me. To be a killer."

My mind flashed back to not even a year ago when I had pushed Alex away. I'd stepped away from her because I was afraid of that very thing. I was afraid I would hurt her. But then I'd been miserable, and apparently so had she. I still thanked my lucky stars that she'd been persistent enough to wait out my self-imposed isolation.

"I don't even have to say it though, do I?" she whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. "I even heard you tell Dylan."

"What did I tell him?"

"He asked if you were like your real father. And you said that you're nothing like him. You believe that."

"I do. Thanks to you."

"Don't give me the credit. No one can make a person change the way they think. It has to come from the inside."

"What if I say that you're my inspiration?" I suggested, only halfway teasing.

Less than half, really, because the possibility of having a successful relationship with her had been my true motivation for exorcising my demons.

The truth behind my comment was not lost on her. She held my head tightly against her, laying her head against the top of mine.

"I'd say we're a good match, then," she replied. "Feeling better?"

"Much. I just needed to shake the images from my head."

"The water helped?"

"You helped."

I put my hands on her waist again and shifted her slightly so that she was sitting on my leg. She kept one hand against my back and used the other to stroke my chest.

"Tell me something else about your dad," she said, leaning her head against my shoulder. "A happy memory. I'm sure you have a few more."

"Uh…happy wasn't really in the Goren vocabulary," I joked, but at the same time, I let my mind wander down memory lane.

It was true. There were a lot of bad times. But there were definitely some good times as well.

It's rare that things are ever static – all bad or all good. Even the happiest of families had bad times, and vice versa.

"Um…he um…he taught me how to shoot."

"Really?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah. When I was about eight. He had a .45."

"You shot a .45 when you were eight?"

"Yeah," I said, and I started to laugh at the memory. "The first time I fired it, I damn near broke my nose. It kicked back so hard it popped me right in the face."

"I would think so," she agreed, joining in my laughter. "What did your dad say?"

"He said, _I told you so_. And he had. He'd warned me that it would recoil, but I was so sure I could handle it…"

"That sounds like the Bobby I know," she teased.

"Yeah, some things never change, huh?"

"So were you any good?"

"I got good after awhile. He took me quite a few times."

"Did Frank go?"

"No, he wasn't interested. I wasn't really either, but I wanted to spend time with him," I told her. "It was just me and my dad."

"That sounds nice."

"It was," I agreed.

"It's too bad I can't thank him. You're still a pretty good shot."

"Not as good as you," I reminded her.

"Why is it," she began as she pulled her head away from my shoulder so that she could look me in the eyes. Her golden-brown eyes were sparkling and she had a hint of a smile on her face. "That we always seem to get into competitions?"

She kissed me gently, first on one cheek and then the other.

"Who is the luckiest…" she continued, and then moved to kiss my lips. "Who is the best shot…"

She shifted again, bringing both of her hands up to my face and then kissed me more earnestly. She pulled back after a moment and ran her fingers across the stubble on my cheeks.

"Who loves who the most…" she added.

"That's not a competition," I argued gently. "That's a fact. I love you more."

"Well, we'll just have to agree to disagree on that, won't we?" she asked with a grin. "Are you ready to go back to bed?"

"Yeah," I agreed readily. "I'm turning our phones off. We're not getting out of bed today."

"We're supposed to have lunch with Cathy, remember?" she asked me as we walked down the hall. "You know what? Never mind. I'll postpone."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think I can stomach listening to her tell me about a new guy."

"She's going to be mad," I warned, although I was secretly pleased. I literally did not want to leave the bed for the next twenty-four hours.

"She'll get over it."

We climbed into bed and settled into our usual positions. Me, on my back and Alex on her side up against me. She usually threw a leg over mine and put her arm across my chest. I kept an arm around her back.

This morning was no different.

It was cool in the apartment, and it felt good to pull the heavy quilt up around us. My head was still slightly damp, but thanks to Alex's earlier ministrations, it would be dry shortly.

"So, one more week to go," she commented as her fingers resumed their exploration of my chest. "Were you surprised by Akers' offer? We really haven't talked about that."

"Yes and no. I was more surprised by Ross' admission that it was a power play. And his support of us."

"Yeah, it seems as though he's finally come around."

"He's going to catch hell from Akers tomorrow. I've heard about him. I know some people who have had dealings with him. He's a political bully."

She shifted downward in the bed and laid her head on my chest. I took the opportunity to run my fingers through her hair. I loved the feel of the silky strands. After nearly a decade of only dreaming about touching her hair, now that I actually had the green-light to do so, I did it whenever I could.

"Hmm...I don't want to talk about work," she said sleepily. "I know I started it, but I changed my mind."

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked, my voice a low rumble in the darkness. It was just before six a.m. but the sun was far from being up and I'd turned off the alarm.

"Anything else," she whispered. "Just talk."

I could tell that she was about a minute away from sleep, and I wasn't much further than that myself.

I could feel her steady heartbeat against me and her breath tickled across my chest. Her fingers trailed aimlessly from the waistband of my boxers up to my throat and then back down again.

My nerve-endings were tingling everywhere she touched. It felt so wonderful to hold her, to be held by her. I still had trouble getting over the amazement that we were finally together.

"Bobby," she murmured, reminding me that she wanted to hear my voice. I trailed my fingers along her jaw and back up behind her ear. I smiled at the way she tilted her head in encouragement.

"Remember that case I told you about – the one I finished up right before I came to the hospital after you'd had the baby?"

"About the partners," she mumbled. "Uh huh."

"That was when I figured it out. That was when I knew that I was in love with you."

I felt her smile against my chest, and I tightened my hold on her. My eyes fell closed and I was on the verge of sleep, when I heard her husky voice.

"That was when I knew, too," she told me. "You were the only person I wanted to see. I was so glad you came, and you stayed with me all night...I loved you for that."

"So it's a tie," I stated. "We've loved each other for the same amount of time."

"Yeah, okay. It's a tie," she agreed. She hated ties. She was competitive and always wanted to win, so I wasn't surprised when her last waking thought was to add, "But I love you more."

I pressed a kiss into her hair as her breathing evened out.

That was fine. I would let her think she won. This time.

TBC...


	26. Chapter 26

**Alex POV**

* * *

Sunday was a godsend. We spent almost the entire day in bed.

We were up at five due to Bobby's dream, but once we got back in, that was about it.

We even ate breakfast and lunch in the bed.

And the phone didn't ring once. Okay, so that's not entirely true. In the afternoon, we set our phones to silent because we were so sure that our perfect day would get interrupted.

I sent a text message to Cathy when I woke up around noon and told her I'd been called out on a case. Yeah, I know. Big fat lie. I would probably feel guilty about that at some point, but not today.

Today was about recovering, mentally and physically, from the week. We'd had some doozies during our time with MCS, but this week had ranked up there at the top.

"So…dinner in bed?" Bobby asked me in amusement. I had no doubt that this was the longest the man had ever willingly stayed in one room in his entire life, but he seemed perfectly content.

"No. Let's go out," I told him.

"Out of the bedroom?"

"_Out_ out," I elaborated. "As in, shower up, get dressed, and go out into public. Let's go have a nice quiet dinner somewhere with a great view."

"I don't think any view would be better than the one I have right now," he countered as he walked his fingers up my back. I was sprawled on my stomach, and his t-shirt had long-since been discarded. The bedcovers were jammed at the foot of the bed.

I rolled over onto my side, propping my head up in my hand.

"Okay, I was wrong," he amended. "This view's better."

I didn't respond to his comment, but I couldn't help but smile. His eyes slowly traveled over my body before coming back to meet mine.

"Thanks for today," he said seriously. "It's been great."

"Yeah, it has," I agreed.

I reached out to cup his cheek with my hand. He instinctively closed his eyes at the feel of my touch. He always did that, and I had to wonder if it was because tenderness had been a foreign concept to him growing up. So maybe now he had learned to savor every moment of it.

"But you're right. Let's go out," he told me as he opened his eyes. He turned his face into my hand and kissed my palm.

Then by silent, mutual agreement, we rolled out of bed.

So we went to dinner. And then we went home and checked our phones. Three missed calls from Cathy, one from Ross, and one from Logan.

"What do you think Ross wants?" I mused. We weren't on call, and I knew he wouldn't be giving us another case.

"I'm not sure. He didn't leave a message, but he would know that we'd call him back. You call Cathy. I'll call Ross and Logan," Bobby offered.

I did my sisterly duty and listened to Cathy complain for nearly twenty minutes. Steve wanted to keep the house. He was accusing her of infidelity. He was going to fight her for custody.

"Cathy, you _are_ being unfaithful," I reminded her. "You told me you'd met someone else."

"But…he's saying it was going on for a long time, and it wasn't. Besides, I would've never looked around if he was being as attentive as he should. It's his fault."

"You're going to blame this on him?" I asked. And yes, I knew that both parties were usually at fault in things such as this, but she wasn't taking any responsibility at all.

"You're not?" she responded incredulously. "Alex! Do you know how many times Steve and I had sex in the past month?"

"I don't, but I really don't…"

"Three times. In a month. What kind of a marriage is that? How am I supposed to be okay with that?"

"Cathy, you don't have to explain yourself to me," I deflected. I did not want to be having this conversation.

"How often do you and Bobby have sex?"

"That's not really relevant."

"Sure it is."

"We haven't even been together a year. You two have been married a long time. It's natural for the spark to die down a little. Besides, you can't compare relationships. They're all different."

"Which gives me my answer," Cathy announced triumphantly. "A hell of a lot more than three times a month."

"I'm sorry. I really need to go. I'm still at work…"

I managed to get her off the phone after only three times of insisting that I had to go.

"Everything okay?" Bobby asked me as I came back into the living room.

"Fine. She's going through a mid-life crisis or something. I don't know. What did Mike have to say?"

"He got another text from Rhonda. I told him that Ross had officially given us the case and that we would get together with him and Carolyn tomorrow to start going over the notes. I'm not sure what's been done on it since it was classified as a cold case."

"What did the text say?"

"It was similar to the last one. I'm telling you, she's escalating. She's going to show herself. I'm really glad Ross opened this thing back up."

"Did you call him back, too?" I asked. I figured he'd had time since I'd spent so long listening to Cathy ramble. Bobby nodded.

"I did. He wanted to let us know that Akers was going to be coming to his office in the morning. He suggested that we might want to come in a little late to work."

"Let me get this straight. Ross suggested we sleep in on a Monday morning. I feel like I'm in some kind of alternate universe here."

"I guess he's expecting fireworks tomorrow, and he doesn't want us to get dragged into the middle of it."

"What time is the meeting?"

"He said eight. He told me that we could come in closer to nine."

I looked at Bobby for a minute and nodded my head.

"So…want to go in about seven-thirty?" I asked him. He grinned at me.

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

* * *

Ross POV

I was feeling good about today. Sort of. As good as I could when I knew I was going to have my ass chewed.

But I'd done the right thing this time, and I was pleased with myself.

Liz was proud of me, too. She'd heard me on the phone with Goren yesterday.

"You're keeping them away?" she'd asked me after I hung up.

"They don't need to hear it. He's coming to my office because he's assuming they said yes. And he probably thinks that if by some chance they didn't, he'll be able to pull them in and strong arm them. It's an unnecessary exercise."

"You're protecting them."

"I…well, I guess I am, yes."

So when I got off the elevator on the eleventh floor, I was stunned to see the two of them sitting at their desks.

"Goren," I addressed him in shock. And then despite the ridiculousness of how it sounded, I greeted her, too. "Goren."

"Captain," she replied with a nod. "I can't tell if you're stuttering or saying hello."

I was going to miss her wit.

"I thought I suggested a nine o'clock arrival this morning," I said slowly.

"Yeah," the original Goren agreed with a smile. "But really, when have we ever followed the rules?"

I barked out a laugh and gave him a nod.

He was exactly right. On the big stuff, yes, they mostly followed the rules. But the little things, the inconsequential things, they liked to do their own way.

"You just wanted a front row seat, didn't you?" I asked without heat.

If they were okay being here, then I was fine with it. I'd just wanted to save them the verbal lashing that Akers was going to inflict.

"We appreciate the consideration," the other Goren spoke up. "But we can fight our own battles. We're not leaving here with our tails between our legs. If Akers has something to say, we'll let him say it. It won't change anything."

Okay, I was going to miss more than just her wit.

And I could kick myself in the ass for being so slow to appreciate the finer qualities of both Gorens.

"Very well then," I conceded. "I'll be in my office."

Thirty minutes later, Akers descended upon the eleventh floor.

He'd taken to the power of the chief's job like a duck to water. I hoped like hell they named someone else permanent chief and that his pro-temp title was truly only that. _For the time being_.

He crossed the squad room and opened my door without knocking. He'd not given either Goren a passing glance and I wondered idly if he even knew what they looked like or if he only knew them on paper.

"Ross!" he said exuberantly as he slammed my door closed behind him.

"Chief Akers," I replied as I stood to shake his hand. I offered him a chair, but he chose to wander around my office, picking up knick-knacks and turning them over in his hand.

"I trust your weekend was productive in regards to the retention of your two best detectives."

"Detective Robert Goren," I stated, because now I was just getting annoyed. "And Detective Alex Goren."

"Right, right. Your married partners. Kind of an embarrassment, isn't it?"

"No, sir, I don't believe it is."

"Good. Because I don't either. They solve cases, and that's what I care about."

"You care about protecting the department from the Moran debacle," I corrected.

I considered that I may be committing career suicide, but I didn't care. I wondered if this was how Goren had felt. Bobby, I mean. All of the times we'd butted heads.

Had he refused to fall in line behind me because he felt my agenda leaned towards being politically correct rather than solving crimes? Or doing the right thing?

It was very possible.

Now that the shoe was on the other foot, so to speak, I could understand where he'd been coming from.

Alex, too. She'd knocked me down a few pegs when she stated that she didn't want to be like me.

And I sure as hell didn't want to be like Akers. I watched him as he preened around the room, full of pomp and bluster. I wasn't going to stand behind this man, and I wasn't going to let him get away with saying anything other than the truth.

"Moran?" he asked in false innocence. "What does he have to do with this?"

"You would have never made the offer if you weren't afraid that Detective Goren would go public about Moran."

"The offer is legitimate. It has nothing to do with Moran."

I gave an internal eye roll and then bit the bullet.

"Be that as it may, the Gorens have declined your offer to stay with the department. This Friday will be their last day."

"Declined? Did you tell them they could stay on as partners?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ross, I thought I could trust you to get the job done. I thought you were a suitable captain for a department as prestigious as Major Case. Maybe I was wrong."

"With all due respect, I have an exemplary record in this department. Our solve rate is through the roof and there have been a record-low number of complaints filed against my detectives."

"You allowed two detectives to carry on a romance right under your nose!" he shouted, his affable disposition gone by the wayside.

He was clearly someone who expected to get his way.

"What kind of detective are you if you couldn't see what was going on?" he continued. "They _owe_ this department. Call them in here. I'm going to speak with them myself."

"They don't owe this department anything. You forget that Detective Alex Goren just received an award from the commissioner? She's branded a hero, and for good reason. The other Detective Goren saved his own ass when the former _chief _tried to set him up for murder!"

I hadn't meant to call Bobby 'the other' Detective Goren, but I think that in my head so much, it just came out. Of course, it slipped right past Akers. He was working himself up to a full-blown tantrum.

"Call them in here now," he ordered as he flung my office door open and pointed toward the squad room.

I looked out and saw more than a dozen detectives staring back at me. This was turning into a spectacle, but I wasn't going to back down now.

"Chief, it won't change anything," I said quietly. "They've made their decision. They've made commitments elsewhere."

"I'll be the judge of that! And if you don't have better control over your detectives, then maybe you're the one who should be leaving on Friday!"

He said that loud enough for the entire room to hear, but I didn't budge.

I stood face to face with him in the center of my office. I'd come too far now, and I wasn't going to call in the Gorens just to appease him.

But I should've known better.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and within a minute, both Gorens were in my doorway.

"Captain," the female Goren spoke up, addressing me and ignoring Akers altogether. "We'd like to join this meeting, if that's okay with you."

TBC...


	27. Chapter 27

**Alex POV**

* * *

Bobby and I made ourselves look busy as the pro-temp chief walked through the squad room. I wanted to observe him without him knowing it.

As it turned out, I didn't need to worry about subterfuge.

The man was in a world all his own.

"Do you think he even knows who we are?" I asked Bobby.

"I doubt it," he replied as Akers strode into Ross' office.

Bobby came around to stand behind me under the pretense of looking at something on my computer, but he just wanted a better angle to watch the scene unfold.

"It doesn't look like it's going well," I remarked.

Ross had come around his desk to stand in the center of the office while Akers arrogantly strutted around the room.

"He looks like a damn peacock," I added.

"What did he say?" Bobby asked, tilting his head. I hadn't considered that we would actually be able to hear, but he was right. Akers was raising his voice quite a bit.

"Something about carrying on a romance under his nose," I mumbled as I continued to strain my ears.

"You think he means us?" Bobby asked with a small grin.

"I think I'm about ready to intervene," I said.

I hated Akers already. He almost had me wishing for Moran again. You know what they say about the enemy you know.

"_They owe this department…"_

"Uh huh," Bobby agreed with a nod as he slowly stood up to his full height.

About that time, Akers flung the door to Ross' office open.

"_Call them in here now!"_

"I think that's our cue," I said as I pushed my chair back.

As I crossed the squad room, I realized that the other detectives in the room were all entranced by the scene Akers was creating.

I had no doubt that was part of his plan. It was a classic prison tactic for gaining respect - beat up on the biggest guy in the joint. And in this case, Ross was the biggest guy. Figuratively, anyway.

I couldn't hear Ross' reply as we neared the office, but I had no trouble hearing Akers' response.

"_I'll be the judge of that! And if you don't have better control over your detectives, then maybe you're the one who should be leaving on Friday!"_

"Is he really threatening Ross' job?" Bobby muttered as we approached the door.

"It sure as hell sounds like it."

We got to the doorway and saw both men in a standoff. I wanted to clap for Ross because he wasn't backing down.

In our not-so-distant past, Ross might've succumbed to the political pressure. He might've tried harder to get us to stay just so that he'd look better to the brass.

But he'd changed. _We'd_ _changed him_. For the better.

As I stood in the doorway of his office, I kept my gaze on the captain rather than the chief. I wanted to be clear about who I considered to be in charge of the meeting.

"Captain, we'd like to join this meeting, if that's okay with you," I said.

Ross looked at me with an inscrutable expression.

I couldn't decide if he was grateful or annoyed for the interruption, but whichever it was, he gave me a curt nod.

I stepped inside the office. Bobby followed me and then turned to close the door behind him, sending a clear message to our colleagues in the squad room.

_The show's over_.

Ross didn't make introductions, and I was curious about that at first, but then I realized his purpose.

Akers didn't know who we were. He'd probably figured it out by now, but Ross was making a point.

Akers was the new guy on this turf. We were the veterans.

As Assistant Chief, Akers had barely made a ripple, choosing instead to ass-kiss amongst the brass rather than deal with the underlings.

And now he was scrambling to distinguish himself as the right man for the position of Chief. He wanted to show that he was different from Moran on every level. He also wanted to prove that he could contain the current PR nightmare.

While I could appreciate the task he had before him, he was going about it all wrong. And I had no sympathy for someone who cut corners and used intimidation as a means to get what he wanted.

"You must be the pro-temp chief," Bobby said, and I loved his emphasis of _pro-temp_. "I'm Detective Goren," he continued, offering to shake his hand.

The transformation of Akers was almost comical. He was at once genial, clasping Bobby's hand firmly and pumping it up and down.

"Glad to meet you. I've heard so much about you. Both of you," he added, turning to me to shake my hand. I went through the exercise and then extracted my hand as quickly as possible.

"Your captain tells me that you two are unsure as to whether or not to accept my offer," he stated.

"That's not exactly what I said, Chief," Ross interrupted.

"I'm sure it wasn't," I acknowledged. I gave Akers my best fake smile. "There's no indecision. We will not be taking the offer."

"Although it is flattering to be asked," Bobby added. _Nice touch_, I thought wryly.

"I don't think flattering is the word you should use to describe it. I would think the word should be irresistible. Unrepudiated. _Incontrovertible_."

This man was really too much.

"You think we should jump on your offer just because…you made it?" I asked carefully.

"I think any smart detective would."

Okay, time for diplomacy was over.

"And I would think that a smart chief wouldn't have to resort to extortion tactics just to get his way."

"Are you questioning my intelligence?"

"No more so than you're questioning mine," I retorted as I took a step closer to him.

"Okay," Bobby interjected smoothly as he stepped in between me and the chief. "I think that the point of this meeting was to determine whether or not Detective Goren and I would be staying on with the department. We have made our decision. Friday is our last day."

"That's a mistake," Akers warned. "And you won't get far in the working world without a good recommendation from the NYPD."

"They'll have their recommendations," Ross spoke up. "I've already written glowing letters for both of them."

"Your letter won't mean squat when you're standing next to them in the unemployment line."

I bristled at his blatant threat and moved up next to Bobby so that we were both standing face to face with Akers.

"You might be there with us after I write my letter to the commissioner," I told him smartly.

Hell, I barely knew the commissioner, but I did know that he liked me. After all, I'd made the department look good at a time when positive PR was crucial.

"You do know what _pro-temp_ means, right?" I continued. "It means you're the only one they could find at the moment, but they're still searching for someone better."

"Detective Goren, you are out of line!" Akers shouted, jabbing his pointer finger in my direction.

Bobby immediately put his hand out to block him from getting any closer to me. He didn't actually touch Akers, but the action sent a clear message.

"Ross, you need to control your people," Akers said as he took a step back. "What kind of department are you running here?"

"I think everyone needs to take a deep breath," Ross cut in.

"Good advice," Akers said haughtily. "Listen up, Detectives. Here's how it's going to be. You two will stay on for three more years as partners. You choose your own cases. At the end of the three years, you'll both have your full retirement."

"We heard the deal already," I told him. "We're declining the offer."

"I'm not finished," he said, his voice escalating. I could tell he was miffed that he'd lost control of this meeting.

I gave him a terse nod and shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

"If you two leave, it will cause a shift in the dynamic of Major Case. It's very possible that in order to…re-establish the efficiency of the department after the loss of its most valuable detectives…it may require…new leadership."

Which was political bullshit speak for _if you two leave, I'm firing Ross, too_.

I was done playing nice.

But apparently, so was Bobby.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

Akers not-so-veiled threat of Ross' job put me over the edge.

I'd tried to be nice.

I'd tried to be the voice of reason, even when my normally unflappable wife had poked at him like a bear in a cage.

But I was done being nice. This guy needed to be put in his place.

"You know what I'm going to do when I retire?" I asked conversationally as though the guy wasn't being a total prick.

But despite my blasé tone, I took a purposeful step toward Akers as I spoke. He stepped back.

"I'm going to write a book," I continued. "You know, one of those…what do you call them?" I asked, turning to Alex.

"Tell-all book," she supplied quickly.

Damn I love that woman. She was always _right there_ with me. I smiled at her.

"That's right. A tell-all book. I'm going to write one of those. It's going to be pretty long though. Do you know why?" I asked Akers as I took another step.

He just looked at me like I'd gone crazy, but then he took another step back. He clearly had a need for personal space, but I wasn't about to give it to him.

One more step and his back was against a bookshelf, so I closed in even more, placing myself mere inches away from him and then I tilted my head down so that I could look him in the eye.

"Because I won't just write about how Moran tried to frame me for murder. About how he was in bed with drug dealers and killers. Figuratively, of course. Literally, he was in bed with a stripper, the girl he accidentally killed and then tried to cover up."

"It's all theory and supposition," Akers remarked shakily.

"Theory? Uh…no. It's fact. And then there's the business of Moran sleeping with his secretary."

"You have no proof of that!"

"Actually, he does. _I _do," Ross spoke up. "In full color."

"And you know," Alex added in a hushed voice. "They actually had sex in his office. That would be your office now, right? I hope you…cleaned off the desk."

I bit back a smile at her comment and continued my assault on Akers.

"And that's not all. Moran sent me on an undercover with no back-up. He actually even threatened to fire me if I told my partner. My_ partner_. I wonder what people would think of this department then? If all of this information gets out?"

"Oh, and don't forget that chapter you can write about the pro-temp chief who tried to blackmail us," Alex said. "Is extortion part of the chief's handbook? Do they teach you that along with ass-kissing and the fine art of condescension?"

"That's enough, Detectives," Akers said, clearly trying to get his feet underneath him.

He leaned slightly forward and I think he expected me to back up, but I didn't. I angled my head the other way and tried to catch his gaze, but he wouldn't make eye contact.

"I think the commissioner needs to hear about this display, Captain Ross. Pensions are going to be revoked. Benefits rescinded," he insisted with false bravado.

"I do think the commissioner needs to hear about this," I agreed. "Let's call him."

Alex pulled out her cell phone.

"I'll call," she offered. "I've got him on speed dial."

"Or," Ross began. "Or we can forget about this whole thing. The Gorens work out their notice as planned. I continue to run Major Case, without interference. Moran's dealings stay behind closed doors."

"Now who's using blackmail?" he asked.

"I learned from the best," Ross told him. "Do we have a deal?"

Akers hesitated, but only for a moment. I allowed him to side step away from me, and then he walked toward the door.

"Maybe I underestimated you, Ross. Maybe you do have the stones for this job," he said in an effort to regain the upper-hand.

He didn't wait for a response, but instead just slipped out the door.

"Unbelievable," Alex said as she let out a long breath. "I never thought they'd find someone worse than Moran."

"We're not really going to let this go, are we?" I asked Ross.

"Not a chance in hell," he said as he walked around his desk. He picked up the phone, but then he paused and looked at Alex. "You've really got the commissioner on speed dial?"

"No," she laughed. "Do you really still have that photo of Moran and Denise?"

Ross smiled and dialed his phone without answering her.

"I guess that's a yes," she said to me. She tipped her head towards the door. "You ready?"

"Commissioner Fahey, please," the captain said into the phone. "Yes, it's Captain Ross."

"Let's see if we can track down Rhonda before Friday," I told Alex quietly. We both started to leave to give Ross the privacy to conduct his phone call.

"Detectives," Ross said when we got to the door. "I…um…"

He stalled on what he was attempting to say, although I imagined it sounded something like _thank you_.

Instead, he gave us a wink and a nod and said, "Get back to work."

TBC...


	28. Chapter 28

**Logan POV**

* * *

It was a frustrating week.

Rhonda was taunting me and there didn't seem to be a damn thing I could do about it.

I'd worked closely with the Gorens in an effort to track her down, but we kept coming up empty. Although we did learn a few things that I had to hope would some day become useful.

For starters, she had an alias. She sometimes went by the name Addison Hooper. In fact, she had a credit card, a cell phone, a bank account, and a driver's license under that name.

The part that was a kick in the teeth was that she'd had it back when I first met her. So I'd slept with a criminal and didn't even know it.

Apparently there was a reason she liked to pick up cops.

Not only was it a rush for her, considering that she was a con-woman, but it also gave her a source for inside information. I'm happy to say that I never provided her with anything, but I'm sure there were guys out there who had talked about crimes they were investigating.

In fact, I could peg the ones who had talked.

Because after some extensive research, we had reached a conclusion about Rhonda's m.o. She would commit a crime that somewhat matched up to another crime that was currently under investigation.

Since she often knew some undisclosed details, she was able to imitate the crime, most of which were burglaries or money scams, and then the cops would think that it was a second crime committed by the original perpetrator rather than a copycat.

See, she was a lot smarter than we'd given her credit for.

Goren liked to call her _my Nicole_.

I had a few other choice names for her.

"You about ready to go?" Carolyn asked me. I looked at the clock and realized that I'd been ruminating about Rhonda for far too long. It was more than half past five.

"Yeah, let me pack this stuff up. I'm going to bring it home for the weekend," I replied as I began gathering the documents I'd had spread out over my desk.

"Oh, and Ross faxed over the official request for us to consult on the case," Carolyn added.

She knew she didn't have to specify which case. I was obsessed. It was _the_ case**. **

"Good," I replied absently. "He's had some turnaround, huh?"

I shoved the document into my briefcase, and then forced the case from my mind for the time being.

"I always thought he had it in him. Alex said he really stood up for them against the acting chief."

"Yeah, and he's not acting anymore," I added with a grin. "I guess the commissioner decided he's had enough of dealing with chiefs with questionable ethics. He's leaving the office empty until he finds a suitable replacement."

"He should've done that to begin with."

I watched her as she wandered around turning off lights. I realized that I'd essentially ignored her for most of the week. I'd been working almost nonstop with the Gorens while she'd been handling all of our other cases.

"Hey, I'm sorry about this week," I told her. I set down my briefcase and ran my hand down her arm. "I've let this case get to me."

"It's understandable."

"Don't let me off the hook so easily, sweetheart," I said. I moved my hand up into her hair and settled it against the back of her head. "I've been focused on one thing while you've been running yourself ragged. That's not fair to you."

"We're partners. If one of us gets fixated on something, the other one picks up the slack."

"As long as it's not always you who has to pick it up," I conceded.

"Give me time. I'm sure I'll obsess about something," she teased. "Oh, hey, can you grab that box over there? I want to take it home."

"Sure, what's in it?" I asked her as I picked up the small box off the counter.

"Take a look."

Her casual response gave me no indication of what to expect.

But as I opened the box, I felt her hand on my back. I looked inside, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe.

It was so completely unexpected.

"What do you think?" she asked quietly. I reached in and pulled out one of the newly printed business cards.

It was exactly like her old ones, except now it read _Carolyn Logan_.

I couldn't speak.

We'd briefly talked about her taking my name. Last week, just before we'd gone into Steve-O's with the Gorens.

But we'd never finished our discussion and she hadn't brought it up again. I didn't bring it up either, because I didn't want to pressure her.

But if she had these already, she must have ordered them first thing Monday morning.

It was irrational. This feeling of happiness and disbelief that flooded through me was insane considering that we were already married. She'd already committed to spend her life with me.

But this was different. This was so much more. Sure it was just a name, but to me…

"Mike?"

"I can't believe you did this," I said at last.

I was embarrassed to hear my voice crack. I was not going to freaking cry. What was wrong with me? Why was I getting so choked up about this?

"I'm only sorry I didn't do it sooner," she whispered, wrapping her arms around me from behind and pressing her cheek against my back.

I continued to stare at the card while I tried to get my emotions under control. She'd probably throw the whole damn box out of the window if she realized what a girl I was being about this.

"Turn around," she told me.

I slowly turned in her arms and then held her tightly, burying my face into her neck.

"I can't even begin to tell you how this makes me feel," I said into her hair.

"You don't have to. You know I can read your mind," she teased.

I knew that she was trying to give me an out. She was letting me off the hook if I didn't want to discuss my feelings. But I loved her too much to take the easy way out.

She deserved to know.

I didn't relax my hold on her. In fact, I squeezed her even tighter as I struggled to find the words that I was looking for.

"I feel like…for the first time in my life…that I'm not alone. I'll never be alone again because I'll always have you."

"You've had me for awhile," she said, although I could tell she understood what I meant.

"But this makes me feel like you're not ashamed to admit it."

"Mike," she said in surprise as she pulled back from me. "Is that what you thought? That I didn't want people to know?"

_Was it?_

I guess I had at least considered it since the words had just rolled off of my tongue.

"Please don't ever think that," she insisted. She put her hands on my cheeks and locked her eyes onto mine. I noticed hers had filled with unshed tears.

Carolyn was nearly crying?

Because of me. _Great job, Mike_.

"Don't think for one second that I'm ashamed of you," she continued. "I'm so sorry that's how I made you feel. I've just…I've always been a loner. I've always done my own thing. It honestly never occurred to me that it would make a difference to you whether my last name was Barek or Logan."

I watched her as she struggled to regain her composure, and I could almost see the exact moment when she decided that it didn't matter. Several tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached up to kiss me.

"I love being married to you," she said.

I used my thumb to wipe away her tears, and then I pulled her tightly against my chest again. We stood like that, neither of us moving, for several minutes but then my cell phone buzzed on my hip.

"If that's another text from that bimbo," Carolyn murmured as I pulled away to grab my phone.

"It's Alex," I said in relief because I didn't want another text from the bimbo either. "She says for us to get our asses over there."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

Friday hadn't come fast enough.

And yet it had come too fast.

Our last day at MCS. Our last day with the NYPD.

And now it was over.

We'd spent the better part of the week tracking down the habits of Rhonda Hagen aka Addison Hooper.

Mike was tied up in knots about this case and I didn't blame him.

Dealing with a former lover was bad enough when it could be handled quickly and efficiently. Rhonda Hagen had been continually goading him for nearly a year now, and the number of messages had dramatically increased over the past couple of weeks.

It was surely distracting for him and most likely exasperating for Carolyn.

The latest message had come on Wednesday. It was short and direct and intimated that she was in New York.

_I saw you with your bitch. Does she know about me? Does she know about the things you like to do to me?_

Of course, Mike had promptly shown the message to Carolyn who'd simply muttered _does she know I like to carry a .45_?

We had managed to compile a great deal of information on Rhonda during the course of the week, and thanks to Ross, we'd be able to continue working on the case as hired consultants.

The week with Ross had been interesting. If someone had told me a month ago that this was how our time with MCS would end, I would've never believed it.

But that showdown in Ross' office on Monday had altered our dynamic yet again. Now it seemed we were nearly friends.

We maintained our professional respect and he stayed clear of us to let us do our thing.

But we had lunch with him twice during the week. One of the times, Liz had joined us too.

And now tonight, he'd insisted on buying us a couple of rounds at McNally's. A dozen or so of our colleagues had invited us out as their way of giving us a send-off since we'd declined any kind of formal party.

When we heard about it, we suggested to Ross that he come along. I also made a quick call to Deakins to encourage him to come out as well.

"I'd love to," he'd told me. "I was going to call you this weekend anyway. Are you still going into business with Logan?"

"Yes sir."

"Great. Will he be there tonight, too? And Carolyn?"

"Yes sir."

"I need to speak with all of you. I may have some work for you if you're interested."

"That sounds great. I appreciate the referral."

And then of course we'd called Mike and Carolyn. I would've called them tonight even if we weren't having the party because if anyone needed a drink tonight, it was Mike.

Carolyn had promised that they would be there by six. She wanted to give us a chance to mingle with our colleagues first, but after an hour of people wishing us well, I was ready for different conversation.

So when six-fifteen rolled around, I sent Mike a text.

_Get your asses over here right now_.

I clipped my phone back onto my belt and looked up to see Bobby holding a fresh drink for me.

"You realize it's official," he said as I took the martini from his hand. "We no longer work for the NYPD."

"It's a little mind-boggling, isn't it?" I asked him, but I couldn't stop the smile. It was an exhilarating feeling. It was freeing.

"So that means I can kiss you right now in front of all of these detectives if I want to," he told me mischievously.

"If _you_ want to? What about what I want?" I teased.

"What do you want, Alex?" he asked in a low voice as he leaned in perilously close.

"I always want you," I replied, and then I went up on my toes to kiss him. It was quick and chaste, but it was symbolic. It was the beginning of a new phase of our lives.

"Are Mike and Carolyn on the way?" he asked me as he stood back and took a small sip of his scotch.

"They should be here in a bit."

He nodded and then surveyed the room while I studied him.

He seemed so composed and relaxed. He wore his navy blue suit like it had been made just for him. And it probably had been.

He had on the blue striped shirt today just for me. I'd sewn the buttons back on a few days ago, although I'd warned him that the next time he ripped a shirt off of me, he'd better get out the needle and thread himself.

Of course, that harmless threat had caused him to pull at the buttons of the shirt I was wearing at the time…so now there was more mending to do.

He's removed his tie once we'd left 1PP, so his shirt collar was open at the top and the neckline of a black t-shirt was visible underneath.

He was self-assured and this realization caused a wave of desire hit me.

This was the Bobby who'd been on the inside, struggling to get out for most of his life. He was comfortable in his own skin. He was at ease in his surroundings. And he was confident, about himself and about my feelings for him.

I felt like I was falling in love with him all over again.

After his slow perusal of the room, he looked back at me and caught me staring.

"What?"

"I…I'm just…happy," I admitted. "I'm really happy."

He broke into a full grin and nodded his head in understanding.

"What's a guy got to do to get a drink around here?"

Never let it be said that Mike didn't know how to make an entrance. He'd just hollered his request from the front foyer of the bar.

Carolyn gave him a shove in our direction and then went up to the bar to order their drinks.

And as he walked towards us, I noticed right off that there was something different about him. He'd changed just since earlier this afternoon when we'd been attempting to electronically track Rhonda.

"What?" I asked him when he approached.

"What?" he asked back.

I stared at him, but he just grinned.

"Oh, hey," he said suddenly. "Carolyn got some new business cards."

"Didn't she already have some?" I questioned as I held out my hand to take the proffered card.

He nodded, but didn't reply, so I looked down at the card.

Ahh…that explained everything.

I gave Mike a hug, which was something we'd been doing a lot more of lately. I liked that he felt comfortable enough with me to do so, and I felt that he was a lot like Bobby in the sense that he'd not had enough love in his life, so showing him some extra affection now was a good thing.

"Congratulations," I told him.

"Hey, it's no big deal," he replied dismissively. But I knew. And he knew I knew.

And when I showed the card to Bobby, he knew too.

The two of them went off to work the room for a few minutes after Carolyn brought Mike his drink.

Or that's what they said anyway. I noticed that they went to a spot at the bar and talked amongst themselves for most of the time they were gone. But that was a good thing, too.

I also noticed that once they did start circulating, Mike was handing out Carolyn's cards like crazy.

"He's drumming up business," Carolyn explained with a smile when she caught my line of sight.

We chatted for a few minutes, and I filled her in on the latest with Rhonda Hagen. She'd been up to speed for most of the week, but she'd been busy today, so she hadn't heard the most recent development.

"Have you put a freeze on her bank account?" she asked me.

"No," Bobby answered as he came up to us. "We left it open but we've got someone keeping an eye on it. If she uses it, we'll know about it immediately."

"Do you think she'll use it?"

"Only if she wants to drop us a crumb," Mike responded sarcastically.

"Okay, we're not discussing this case any more tonight," I insisted. "This is supposed to be a happy occasion."

"Detectives," Ross said as he approached us. I raised my eyebrow at him and waited for him to realize his mistake.

"Uh…sorry. Bobby…Alex," he stated. "I'm going to have to head out. I just wanted to…say thank you, and to wish you both luck."

"I'm sure we'll be running into each other from time to time," I responded casually.

I hated goodbyes and I usually tried to avoid them if at all possible. I noticed a lot of other detectives were starting to gather around, apparently getting ready to make their exits as well.

"Maybe, but still…it's been a hell of a run." Ross replied.

"Let's make a toast," Mike said loudly.

"To the end of two brilliant careers with Major Case," Carolyn offered.

"And the beginning of…" Ross began.

"Everything else," Mike supplied.

Everyone raised their glasses and then within seconds, the moment was over.

People began to trickle out of the bar, some calling to us as they left and others simply fading into the night.

"It feels kind of strange, doesn't it?" I remarked to Bobby. We were sitting alone at the bar and most of the people from the department had left. I wasn't ready to go home yet though.

"In a good way?"

"In a good way."

"Hey," Mike called as he came over to us. "Deakins said he wants to talk to the four of us."

"Oh yeah, he mentioned something about that on the phone. He's got a referral for us."

"We'll be right there," Bobby said. Logan turned and went back across the bar to where Carolyn and Deakins were sitting at a booth.

"So it's starting already," I commented with a grin.

"You didn't actually expect to have any kind of a break, did you?" he asked, returning my smile.

"Not really, no," I admitted.

And then, because it felt like this was a significant moment, I reached up and kissed him.

"La fine...ed la inizio," Bobby said smoothly, his eyes never leaving mine.

He clinked his glass against mine and tossed back the rest of his scotch. I finished off my drink as well, and then we set our glasses down on the bar.

"Ready?" he asked, holding out his hand to mine.

"Let's go."

* * *

**The End**


End file.
